After the Fairytale
by Emmie0928
Summary: What happens after Cinderella marries her prince? Do they live happily ever after like the story always told us? Or does she instead discover that she never really knew him at all?
1. Chapter 1

A crowded church, filled to the brim with the kingdom's finest and most elite.

Romantic vows, said while clasping hands and gazing into each other's eyes.

Two shiny rings, exchanged to symbolize the eternity of our relationship.

A kiss, the seal of our love.

A carriage, gilded and gorgeous and waiting to whisk us away on our honeymoon.

As the girl who had spent my life amongst the cinders, it was almost as if I had woken up in a dream. All those people, dressed head to toe in such elegant finery and draped in so much expensive jewelry, there to see and celebrate _me_. It was everything I'd ever dreamed of and more. My own Prince Charming. The most beautiful dress in the world. A castle to live in. And most importantly, a future without any scraps of food or rags or bossy stepsisters or cruel stepmother. A future free from the life of oppression and servitude that I had longed to escape for so long. A future in which I, the girl who had been known as Cinderella for so very long, would someday be queen. It was magical, a dream come true.

We arrived at the royal family's summer home that evening, located at the foot of the mountains on the edge of the Kingdom. Romantic and secluded, it the perfect location for a honeymoon.

"It's not nearly as big as the main castle, of course," the prince said, as he extended his hand and helped me down from the carriage. "But I hope that you find it satisfactory."

I laughed, gazing up at the beautiful stone structure in front of us. I decided that I liked it even more than the main castle. It was covered in ivy and surrounded by trees and gardens. Even standing outside, it felt much more homey and comfortable and welcoming. It was impressive, yes, but without the intimidating grandeur of the other castle.

"I think it'll do nicely," I said, smiling up at my new husband.

He smiled back at me, taking my breath away. He was so devastatingly handsome, with his big brown eyes and dark hair. I still couldn't believe that he was mine and I was his. How had someone like him chosen someone like me? After so many years of the worst luck in the world, why had fortune decided to bless me with all of this?

"Come on," the prince said, leading me up the stone pathway that led to the front door. "I'll give you a tour."

"This castle was built about 250 years ago by an ancestor of mine as a summer home for him and his new wife," he explained, as we entered the grand foyer. "Ever since then, it has been a tradition for members of the family to honeymoon here."

We continued on our tour, with him pointing out the ornate carvings in the woodwork or explaining who the people in the portraits on the wall were. Everything was so fancy and expensive-looking that I hardly dared to touch any of it for fear that I would break something.

"And here," he announced grandly at the end of our tour, "is the master bedroom."

I stared at the large wooden door in front of me, feeling as if a hundred butterflies had suddenly taken up residence in my stomach. The bedroom. This was where the two of us would consummate our love for each other. This was where we would truly become one – a thought that terrified me.

He reached out and grabbed the golden handle, pulling open the door. The sight that greeted us was, of course, magnificent. Gorgeous gilded designs all around the top of the walls. Stained glass windows in every color imaginable. Light danced off of the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Below it was the biggest bed that I had ever laid eyes on. My heart sped up when I saw it.

I opened her mouth to say something about how beautiful the room was, but before I had a chance, my husband had scooped me up in his arms. I squealed in surprise as he carried me over the threshold and across the room, dropping me on the bed. I fell back, my head landing on one of the many pillows. I lay there for a moment, gazing up at him from under my eyelashes, trying to remember what my ladies-in-waiting had told me about looking desirable. He crawled into the bed next to me, immediately planting a long kiss on my lips.

"Cinderella," he murmured after he pulled away, his eyes filled with a hunger that I had never before seen. Quite frankly, it made me even more nervous than I had previously been.

"Edmund," I said suddenly, "don't call me that."

He looked confused. "But that's your name."

"No," I said. "No, it's a nickname my stepsisters gave me. My real name's just Ella. And I like to be called that again. I haven't been just Ella in years. I've almost forgotten what it was like."

"Well, _Just Ella_," he said, his eyes twinkling in the way they always did when he teased me, "do you realize that we are now married?"

I felt a smile begin to creep across my face. "_Really?_ I must not have been paying attention for that."

"Well," he said, brushing a lock of hair from my face, "I can assure you that we are. Which means that we are now quite alone and able to do…whatever we want."

The butterflies in my stomach began to flutter even more wildly than before, but I managed to raise an eyebrow in a manner that I hoped was at least slightly seductive. "Oh, really?"

"Would you like to go change into something more…comfortable?" he asked.

I nodded.

"It's tradition for us to not bring many servants to this castle," he explained, "so you'll have to dress yourself while you're here. I hope that's not a problem."

After assuring him that it wasn't a problem and that I had, in fact, been dressing myself since I was quite young, I stood up to go change into my nightgown. It, like all the other clothes that had been packed for me, had not belonged to me before. All those dresses – ragged hand-me-downs from my stepsisters Anastasia and Drizella – had been thrown out, replaced by the most gorgeous wardrobe in the world. They were truly the clothes of a princess. Even this nightgown put my old clothes to shame.

I made my way back to the bed, where Edmund was lying, already changed. He was on the top of the covers, his bare chest completely exposed. My breath caught in my throat. He was beautiful.

His eyes lit up when he saw me approach. "Come here," he murmured, stretching out his arms.

I went to him and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his body.

"Are you nervous?" he whispered in my ear.

"Yes," I replied softly.

"Don't be," he said. "You can trust me. I promise."

So I did.

* * *

"What are thinking about?" he asked me, as we lay together afterward.

"I'm thinking that I'm glad you picked up my glass slipper and decided to find me," I told him.

This answer seemed to satisfy him, although it wasn't really true. I had actually been wondering how it was possible that the man that I was married to didn't know that my real name was Ella. It was true that it had been years since anyone had actually called me that, but it still seemed like something he should have been aware of. I wondered how much I didn't know about it him, and for the first time that thought crossed my mind that perhaps we had married a bit too soon.

* * *

The next morning, I awoke to find Edmund's side of the bed empty, a note in his place.

_My darling Ella,_

_Meet me downstairs in the dining room for breakfast._

_Your loving husband, _

_Edmund_

I smiled to myself as I slipped out of bed and got dressed. The smile stayed in place as I descended the grand staircase. My doubts and insecurities from the night before had faded away with the darkness and now seemed silly. I had nothing to worry about. Yes, we had married rather soon, but he loved me and I loved him. We had the rest of our lives ahead of us to get to know everything about each other.

Entering the dining room, I found Edmund deeply immersed in conversation with the maid. He was sitting at the head of the table, an open newspaper in front of him. She was crouched down beside him, their heads bent together, reading what appeared to be the same article.

"Good morning," I said, as a way to announce my presence.

The maid immediately stood up. "Good morning, your highness," she said, curtsying clumsily.

I nodded at her, taking a seat. "So," I said brightly, "what were you two reading about?"

"We were just discussing this article," he said, pointing to a large story about a war that was taking place in a far off country. "It offers a unique perspective on the whole conflict. Perhaps you'd like to read it?"

I almost told him no. I'd never been one who'd paid much attention to foreign affairs. But then it occurred to me that I would queen someday and I should probably start making an effort to become more informed. Besides I didn't quite like the idea of Edmund having private conversations with this maid that I couldn't be a part of. It was an absurd thing to be jealous about, but she was very pretty, with wide set green eyes and long black hair that was pulled into a French braid and I couldn't help but feel a bit insecure.

"Yes," I said, reaching out and taking the newspaper from him. "I'd love to."

"Can I get you anything else, ma'am?" the maid asked me in a thick Spanish accent.

I noticed for the first time that the table was covered in dishes of food. Plates overflowing with fruit. Ham and cheese quiches. Frittata. Scones and jam. Belgian waffles and maple syrup. My mouth began to water. I hadn't been able to eat much the night before due to the combination and nerves and excitement, but this morning I was starving.

"No, thank you," I said, picking up a strawberry and sticking it in my mouth. "This is plenty."

She smiled at me, her lips pulled tightly together. "Very good," she said. She turned to Edmund. "And you, sir?"

He shook his head. "Everything is perfection, Catalina. Give our compliments to the chef."

_Catalina._ A gorgeous and exotic name that matched her perfectly.

She curtsied once more and exited the room.

We ate in silence for a bit, as I tried to the read the article. But it kept making references to previous battles that had been fought and politicians I had never heard of, and soon enough my eyes began to glaze over and I let out a yawn.

Edmund glanced up sharply. "Is the article boring you?" he asked.

"A little," I admitted.

"You know, Ella," he said, reaching out and taking the paper back, "you're going to be queen someday. At some point, you should probably start to take an interest in foreign affairs."

I flinched at the condescending tone of his voice. It was a side to him I'd never really noticed before and I didn't much like it. I'd spent years being talked down to by my stepsisters and stepmother; I hadn't gotten married to experience the same thing.

His eyes softened a bit. Perhaps he's noticed that he'd upset me. "I'm sorry, Ella. That wasn't fair of me. I know that you didn't have a chance to receive much of an education."

This was true. I had been kept busy, cooking and cleaning for my lovely family. Any free time I had was usually spent sleeping and on the rare occasion that I did get a chance to pick up a book, it was usually a novel. Still, I remember before my father died that I used to love learning. I'd go into his study and sit on his lap as he read to me from the newspaper. He'd explain the articles to me and point to the countries that we involved on the globe. How strange, I thought, that I knew more about current events when I was seven than I did now.

"Could you explain it to me?" I asked. "I'd love to understand."

Edmund smiled at me. "Of course, my dear. I'd love to."

* * *

"So what are we going to do today?" I asked, after we had finished breakfast.

Edmund leaned back in his chair and gazed at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Whatever you want, darling."

"I'm not used to having so much free time," I said. "I hardly know what to do with myself."

Before meeting the prince, my life had not been much more than an endless stream of cooking and cleaning. Even after becoming engaged, my days had been kept pretty busy with wedding planning. But now there were no floors for me to scrub and no meals for me to cook. There weren't even any dress fittings or cake tastings to attend.

"Would you like to go horseback riding?" he asked.

I nodded. "That sounds like a nice idea. I think I'd like that very much."

He stood up, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. "I have a few things I need to take care of first," he told me. "Some letters to write, that sort of thing. So how about you go relax for a bit, then put on some riding clothes and meet me out at the stables at eleven?"

"Sounds like a plan," I said, standing up as well. "I'll see you in a bit."

* * *

At eleven I opened the door of our bedroom and stepped into the hallway, adjusting my hat as I went. As I turned the corner, I collided with Catalina, the beautiful maid Edmund had been talking to that morning at breakfast.

"I'm sorry," I said, leaning down to pick up the feather duster she had dropped. Handing it back to her, I noticed she looked a bit frazzled, her braid half undone and an uncomfortable expression on her face. She didn't quite meet my eye as she took the duster back, her gaze darting in every other direction in an apparent effort to avoid making eye contact.

"Are you feeling okay?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes, fine," she murmured hastily, brushing past me and disappearing down the hallway.

Her behavior struck me as quite strange, but I shrugged it off. By the time I reached the stables, my mind had shifted to other thoughts. Like the fact that I hadn't ridden a horse in years, not since my father had died when I was nine.

"Feeling nervous?" Edmund asked, when he arrived a moment later, looking much too handsome in his riding boots and jacket.

"A bit," I admitted.

"Well," he said, cupping my chin with his hand and planting a kiss on my nose, "you mustn't worry. I won't let any harm come to you."

I nodded, gazing into his brown eyes. "I know," I whispered.

"By the way," he said, as he helped me mount my horse, "Catalina told me that when she went in to clean up our room this morning, the old sheets were already stripped off and new ones put on. Did you do that?"

"Yes," I replied sheepishly. "I'm so used to having to do everything for myself. It would have felt so strange to walk away without making the bed."

"Ella," he said, squeezing my hand, "you are a princess now. Princesses don't make their own beds."

"No," I replied. "I suppose they don't."

"Just remember who you are," he continued, as he mounted his own horse. "You're no longer – and will never be again – a servant. You're the future queen of this kingdom. Never forget that."

How could I forget something like that? The future queen. It was like something out of a dream.

* * *

**This is my first fanfiction that isn't Harry Potter related. I was inspired to write it one day when it occurred to me that Cinderella had married her prince without bothering to get to know him at all. This seemed like it would lead to a lot of troubles in their marriage and I thought those troubles would make a good story.**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Edmund was an early riser, so when I awoke on the final day of our honeymoon to find him still curled up beside me, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, I was a bit surprised. I slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the room, not wanting to wake him. Sitting down at the antique vanity, I pulled my hair out of its braid, raking my fingers through it until it fell in loose curls down my back. I gazed in the mirror, and my reflection stared back at me. Her cheeks were rosy. Her blue eyes almost seemed to twinkle in the morning light. Her skin had a hint of color to it from the countless hours spent exploring the grounds of the estate. Gone was the pasty-skinned, underfed girl from a couple months ago. The girl with bags under her eyes and permanent expression of resignation. She had been replaced by a girl who was happy, healthy, and loved.

"Good morning, beautiful," Edmund said from behind me, catching me by surprise.

I whirled around. "You scared me," I said, giggling. "I didn't know you were awake."

He glanced up at the large clock in the corner. "I'm surprised _you're_ awake," he said. "Isn't six a bit early for you?"

"Is it really that early?" I asked. "I didn't realize."

Edmund reached out, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. "Are you ready to return to the real world?" he asked softly.

I shook my head. "Not really," I murmured. "We've been here for so long that I nearly forgot that it wasn't our real home."

"I wish we could stay here forever," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "Just the two of us."

"Me too," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

"But we can't," he said, his hand trailing down my arm, causing me to shiver slightly.

"No," I agreed. "We can't."

His eyes smoldered as he gazed at me and my heart sped up.

"I should finish packing," I whispered breathlessly.

"Not necessary," he replied. "Catalina can do that. She wasn't hired so she can stand around and look pretty, you know."

I lifted an eyebrow. "You think she's pretty?"

He chuckled. "Not nearly as beautiful as you," he assured me.

I smiled. "Really?"

"Really," he said, his hands encircling my wrists as he pulled me into a standing position. "I love you," he murmured into my ear, his breath warm on my face.

"I love you too," I said, my arms encircling his neck.

"We still have a few hours before we need to leave," he said. "How about we go back to bed? I can show you just how much I love you."

I giggled. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

* * *

We pulled up to the gates of the castle later that day. Edmund stepped out of the carriage first, offering me his hand and helping me out.

"Welcome home," he said, smiling down at me.

I stared up at the castle, marveling at its size and splendor. I still couldn't believe that it was my home. Back when I lived with my stepmother, I used to stare out of my window for hours on end, watching this very castle, imagining what it would be like to live there instead, to have servants and beautiful dresses and the love of a prince. And now it had all come true.

Edmund's father greeted us at the door, his eyes twinkling jovially as I kissed him on the forehead.

"Welcome back, Ella," he said. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"Thank you, your majesty," I said.

He chuckled. "Ella, my dear, you are married to my son now. Please, call me Papa."

I smiled. "It's nice to see you again, Papa."

"Did you two have a nice honeymoon?"he asked, ushering us inside.

"Yes, it was lovely," I replied.

"I'm sure it was," he said. "Now I know you both must be exhausted from the trip, so I won't keep you any longer."

I made my way upstairs to my quarters. While on our honeymoon, Edmund and I shared a room. That was not that case here. In this castle, I had my own bedroom, bathroom, and sitting area, while my husband had his. But he had assured me that he wasn't planning on doing much sleeping in his own bed. "I'll come visit you nearly every night" he had whispered in my ear.

I stepped inside my room and was immediately swarmed by my ladies-in-waiting. Their questions and giggling filled the room as the pressed closer to be.

"How was the honeymoon?"

"Is he a good kisser?"

"Kisser? Forget kissing? We want to _all_ the details."

"What was the castle like? I heard it's beautiful."

"The castle? Are you really asking about the castle?"

"What's wrong with that? I'm interested in architecture."

"Ladies," I said, laughing as I took a seat on the edge of my bed. "One at a time, please."

Sarah immediately sat down next to me, her wide eyes alight with excitement. She was young, only about sixteen or seventeen, and had an affinity for romance novels.

"Tell us everything!" she exclaimed, obviously bursting with eagerness. "Start from the beginning. Don't leave anything out!"

The other three piled onto the bed with us. Even Anna, who usually scowled when anything the slightest bit romantic was mentioned, leaned in close (though perhaps she just wanted to hear about the architecture of the castle).

After I had told them everything, Sarah sighed heavily, clutching her hands to her heart. "That all sounds so romantic," she said. "You're so lucky."

Anna rolled her eyes. She was the second-oldest of ladies-in-waiting and her heart had been broken many years before by one of the stable boys. Since then she had resigned herself to living as a bitter old maid for the rest of her life. She took it upon herself to keep the other ladies (especially Sarah) grounded in reality, taking a strange delight in reminding them that men were not to be trusted. Surprisingly, Sarah and Anna actually got along immensely well otherwise. They were like sisters, complete opposites who kept each other balanced.

Catherine, the oldest of us all, stood up. "It sounds like you had a lovely time, Ella. I'm very happy for you. But we've spent far too much time chatting. It's time to get you dressed for dinner." She pointed at Elizabeth. "Go fetch the dress from the closet. Anna, you get the shoes. And Sarah, you start on her hair."

In a flash, the ladies scattered in all directions. Sarah followed me over to my vanity, picking up a hairbrush.

"You hair is so lovely," she said, as she ran the brush through it. "So soft and shiny. And the color! The color is so beautiful. Like gold." She sighed. "I'm so jealous. My hair is like straw."

I closed my eyes and smiled contentedly. It felt so nice, being the one sitting there while someone else brushed my hair and showered me with compliments. For so long, I had been the one forced to help my stepsisters get ready for party after party, lying through my teeth when they asked how they looked.

"Do you think Prince Edmund is going to visit you tonight?" she asked, as she finished brushing my hair and began to twist it up into some sort of complicated updo.

"I hope so," I murmured.

"He will," Sarah assured me. "He'd be crazy not to."

* * *

That night, after helping me into my nightgown and stripping down my bed, my ladies-in-waiting slipped out the door, each taking their turn saying goodnight to me.

And then I was alone. The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the clock and my own breathing.

I pulled the sheets tighter around my body and stared up the canopy above me. It was a massive bed, much too large for one. I felt small and alone. I had almost forgotten what it was like to sleep by myself. I had grown used to Edmund stealing the covers while he slept. I had learned to fall asleep to the sound of his heavy breathing and to ignore him when he talked in his sleep. But most of all, I had grown accustomed to falling asleep in his arms.

The clock on the mantle continued to tick. Where was he? He had promised he would come to me.

Slowly, I felt myself drifting to sleep. Closing my eyes, I pretended he was laying there beside me.

"Goodnight, Edmund," I whispered.

I was met only with silence.

I pictured him lying in his own bed. Or perhaps sitting at his desk. Or taking a midnight stroll around the castle grounds. I hoped that wherever he was, he was thinking of me too. There had to be a reasonable explanation for his absence. Tomorrow I would find out what it was. But for now, I had to sleep. Maybe I would dream of him. And maybe, just maybe, he was dreaming of me too.

* * *

The next morning, I descended the marble staircase slowly. With each click of my heel, I grew closer to the patio, closer to him. Stepping out into the warm morning air, I was greeted by my husband. He set down his newspaper and smiled up at me.

"Good morning, darling," he said, gesturing at the array of food that had been set for us. "Have whatever you like. It's all delicious."

I sat down across the table from his, waiting for his explanation. Waiting for him to tell me why I had to fall asleep by myself the night before. He was my husband. I was his wife. We should not have been sleeping in separate beds only weeks after marrying.

"What's the matter, Ella?" he asked, taking a sip of coffee. "You haven't touched any of the food. Are you not hungry?"

I shook my head. "No…I…I was simply wondering where you were last night. I waited for you."

To my surprise, he merely chuckled in response.

"I hardly think it's funny," I said, offended. "I missed you."

"And I missed you, my dear," he said, leaning back in his chair and appraising me lazily. "But I was exhausted last night. I fell asleep completely by accident. When I woke up, it was nearly three in the morning. I'm sorry if I upset you. I'll be there tonight. I promise. No excuses."

I smiled, relieved that he had a reasonable explanation. Picking up my fork, I speared a piece of sausage. "I guess I am a bit hungry."

"Now, Ella," he said, after we had been eating for a few minutes, "there are a few things I wanted to discuss with you."

I looked up expectedly, my mouth full of food.

"Your birthday is coming up in about a month," he said, "and I was wondering how you wanted to celebrate."

"Oh," I replied, caught off guard. I had nearly forgotten my birthday. I hadn't celebrated it in years, not since my father died. "Er, I'm not sure."

"I was thinking that we should have a ball in your honor," he said. "After all, it's not every day that a girl turns twenty."

"A ball," I repeated. "Yes, that sounds nice."

I had only ever been to one ball in my life, but it had turned out pretty well for me. What was the harm in giving it another shot?

"Good," he said. "I know you don't know too many people, so I'll take care of the guest list. You'll know most of them from the wedding, so don't worry too much. It won't be a room full of strangers."

I hardly remembered any of the guests from the wedding, at least not my name. The whole days had blurred together in my head, a mixture of people and food and celebration and giddiness. But I nodded anyway, as if all the guests had been my oldest friends.

* * *

The next couple weeks passed by rather slowly. Every day seemed exactly like the last. I'd wake up at eight or nine. My ladies-in-waiting would help me dress. I'd go downstairs for breakfast with Edmund. Then he would disappear into his study or off on his horse, and I would go back upstairs to chat with the ladies or play cards. If it was nice we would walk outside or play tennis. Then it would be time for lunch, sometimes with Edmund and sometimes with the king. Other times I'd eat alone. After lunch, I'd sometimes read a book or take another walk. Sometimes there were visitors to entertain or planning for my birthday ball that needed to be done. Then I'd go upstairs and get dressed for dinner, which always started promptly at eight in the dining room. After dinner, I read a bit more or chat a bit more or play more card games. Then it would be time for bed. Usually Edmund would join me, but sometimes he wouldn't.

If it weren't for my ladies-in-waiting, especially Sarah and Anna (whom I had grown quite close to), I was sure that I would have died of boredom. I wasn't used to this…to this monotony. And the free time, my gosh, there was simply so much of it. I used to dream of having free time, but now that I did, I simply felt useless. No, I had no desire to return to my old life, where I been treated like my stepmother and stepsisters' personal slave. I did not want to go back to be worked from dawn to dusk with no breaks and little food. But I wanted _something_ to do. Something that made me feel like I had a purpose.

One evening, I stepped out onto the balcony, gazing out at the lights of the town. It looked so far away from where I stood. Tiny little building so far out of my reach. Oh, how I missed that town. The hustle and bustle and all the people. Nothing was ever monotonous there. Something was always going on. There were always new smells and new displays in the windows, new people to meet and new foods to sample. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was go into town. The need washed over me. I was desperate, simply desperate, to get out of this castle, away from these grounds. I needed a change of scenery and I needed it badly.

At dinner that night, I sprung my idea on Edmund. It was just the two of us. The king did not feel well and was eating in his room.

"Edmund," I said, pushing my food from side to side with my fork, "can I ask you a question?"

"Don't play with your food, Ella," he said, lifting his wine glass and taking a sip. "You're a princess, remember? Table manners matter now."

I set down my fork. "Sorry," I said. "But back to what I was saying. I was thinking that I wanted to go into town tomorrow."

He raised an eyebrow. "Town? Why?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Change of scenery, I suppose."

"Well," he said, "I suppose that's fine. Shall I accompany you?"

I shook my head. "No, I'd like to go alone, if that's okay."

"Alone? Is that safe?"

"Edmund," I said, reaching out and squeezing his hand. "I used to go into town all the time by myself to buy food."

"Yes, but you weren't a princess then, were you?"

I pouted. "Please, Edmund."

His eyes softened. "That's not fair, Ella. You can't make that face at me. How could I possibly say no?"

"Then don't say no," I urged.

"Fine," he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Go to town. By yourself. Don't listen to anything I say. What do I know anyway?"

"Thank you!" I said, springing up out of my seat. "Thank you! Thank you!"

I ran to his side and threw my arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his lap.

I giggled. "Edmund, what are you –?"

"Shhh," he murmured, pressing his lips to mine.

I melted into him. By this point, I had kissed him countless times. And yet he never failed to make my heart speed up and my mind go fuzzy. When I remembered that I would get to kiss him every day for the rest of my life, I'd almost have to pinch myself to make sure it was true. But this was a dream that was never going to end. I would never have to wake up and serve my stepmother or stepsisters again. And this handsome, charming prince was mine to kiss forever.

* * *

The carriage dropped me off in the town square right after lunch the next day.

"I'll be back at four o'clock on the dot," the driver told me. "Don't be late." And then he was gone. And I was alone. For the first time in what felt like ages.

I looked around, unsure of where to go first. Back when I lived with my stepmother, I'd always go straight to the market and straight home. There was no time for exploring, for browsing through bookstores or buying a muffin in a bakery. But now could. Now I had the freedom to go wherever I wanted.

And the bakery sounded like a spectacular place to start.

A little while later, after finishing off the tastiest piece of cake I'd had in ages, I wandered down a street I'd never been on before. The market was located on Main Street and I'd never strayed from there until now. I passed by a carpenter's shop, waving at the two old men that sat outside playing checkers. I peeked inside a dress shop, but didn't go in because I already had more dresses than I could possibly need. Then I came to a small bookstore, located at the very end of the street. It looked newly painted, with windows that nearly glistened in the sunlight. Whoever owned this place obviously took good care of it. I glanced up that the sign above the door.

_Toulson Books,_ the sign read in large, black letters.

Toulson. I knew that name. Could it be the same Toulson family? I shrugged, pulling open the door and stepping inside. It couldn't hurt to find out.

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

The bell above the door tinkled as I entered the shop. There was no one behind the counter located in the back corner, so I started to look around. There were books everywhere, shelves and shelves of them. The books that didn't fit on the shelves were stacked in neat piles on tables and on the window sill. I picked up a thick hardbound book that was labeled as a _History of the Royal Family_ and began to flip through it. Many of the pictures looked familiar to me; the original portraits hung all over the castle I now lived in. I wondered if someday my name or picture would be printed in a book like this.

"Can I help you find anything?" a female voice asked.

I set the book down and turned. A girl stood behind the counter. She was young, probably only about fifteen and rather plain looking, with mousy brown hair and freckled skin. Her most striking feature was easily her eyes. They were a bright green with flecks of gold that seemed to dance in the light. They were the eyes that nearly everyone in the Toulson family had. Yes, I knew immediately that she had to be one of them. Lydia Toulson, if I was remembering correctly. The last time I had seen the young lady standing in front of me, she had been five years old and I had been nine. It was raining and everyone was gathered in the cemetery, watching as my father was lowered into the ground.

"Oh my goodness!" the girl exclaimed loudly, her eyes widening in shock. "You're…you're the princess. Princess Ella. And you're here… in our shop!" She dropped in to clumsy curtsy. "I can't believe you're really here!"

I smiled awkwardly, wondering if she remembered me from our childhood or just simply recognized me as the princess.

"What's going on in here?"

I turned my head. A man was standing in the doorway that led to the storage room, staring straight at Lydia. He had the same piercing green eyes as she did. He was her brother. My heart sped up. It was really him. Henry Toulson.

"Well," he said, raising an eyebrow, "would you care to explain why you're in here shouting, Lydia?"

She lifted a shaking finger and pointed straight at me. "Henry, don't you realize who this is?"

He shifted his gaze to me, as if he just now noticed I was there. "No," he said after a moment. "I'm afraid I don't."

"Princess Ella!" she shrieked, unable to hide her enthusiasm. "You know, Prince Edmund's new wife?"

There was no recognition in his eyes. He simply shrugged. "My apologies, Your Highness. I don't keep up with the royal family. I hope you won't have me beheaded."

"Henry!" his sister exclaimed, aghast. "What's wrong with you! That's not how you greet a princess!"

He rolled his eyes. "She's just a person, Lydia. No different than you or me." He fixed me with his steady gaze, his lip curling in distaste. "Even if she has had everything handed to her on a silver spoon since she was born."

I was now certain that he didn't know who I was.

"Henry," Lydia snapped, "what in the world are you talking about? Do you honestly not know who this is?"

"You just told me!" he replied, looking annoyed. "She's our brand-new princess. Sorry that I'm not leaping for joy like you."

"She's Ella Tremaine, you idiot. For goodness' sake, how did you not know that our former neighbor is now the princess? Do you live under a rock? Or are incapable of reading the newspaper?"

"I read the newspaper for actual news," he said. "Not fluffy little stories about royal weddings."

"Did you not hear what I said?" Lydia asked. "She is Ella Tremaine. The daughter of Lord Tremaine."

"Yes!" he replied, suddenly sounding quite flustered. "Yes, I heard what you said." He turned back to me and for a second the hardness in his eyes softened and he looked so much more like the boy I used to know. But then, just as quickly, his scowl returned and he looked away.

"Don't tell me you forgot me," I said, speaking for the first time since he had entered the room.

"No," he said, staring at the floor. "No, I just didn't make the connection between the princess and the little girl I used to live next door to. You've…grown up. I didn't recognize you."

"Yes," Lydia murmured dreamily. "Isn't she beautiful now?"

"She's always been beautiful," he replied. He clenched his jaw, immediately looking annoyed with himself.

Lydia smiled. "So what brings you here anyway?" she asked me.

"I was just wandering around town," I replied, "and I saw your sign. I came in to see if you were the same Toulsons that I used to know."

"You're just wandering around town?" Henry asked sharply. "By yourself? Is that safe?"

"You sound like my husband," I said, rolling my eyes. "And I'm perfectly capable of walking around on my own. I'm not a toddler."

"No," he said, "but you are a princess."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked coolly.

He shrugged, dismissing my question with a wave of his hand. "Listen, I'd love to stand around and chat all day, but unlike you, I do not have hours and hours of free time per day to devote to doing absolutely nothing."

"Oh, do be quiet!" I snapped. "You think I enjoy having nothing to do?"

"How should I know?" he asked. "I don't even know you. Not anymore." He nodded at me. "Good day, Your Highness. Feel free to stay and look around for as long as you please. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask Lydia. I'll be in the back room." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" I called after him.

He turned back around. "What?"

"I want a job!" The words fell out of my mouth before I even realized what I was asking. Before I even realized that was what I wanted.

His brow furrowed and he raked his hand through his dark blonde hair. "Excuse me?"

"I want a job," I repeated.

"A job," he said slowly, as if the word was foreign to him. "You don't mean here, do you?"

"Yes, here. If you have an opening. If not, do you know anywhere else that might be hiring?"

He let out a sharp laugh, a laugh devoid of any amusement. "Is this some sort of joke?" he asked. "Because I fail to see how it's funny."

"No, it's not a joke," I said. "I'm tired of sitting around the castle all day. I want something to do, something to keep me busy."

"Yes," he said, smirking. "That must be so awful for you. I can't imagine how horrible it must be to be so bored that you simply must get a job to amuse yourself for a while."

"Are you hiring or not?" I asked, trying to remain calm when all I wanted to was slap that stupid smirk off his face.

"No, we're not, Your Highness."

"Yes, we are," Lydia piped up from behind the counter. "You told me just the other day that we needed help around here now that business is doing so well."

He turned around, glaring at his little sister. "Thank you, Lydia," he said, "but when I said that I meant someone with a little bit of work experience. Not a spoiled princess who's never had to lift a finger to do something for herself in her entire life."

"Excuse me?" I snarled. "I've been a princess for a month!"

"Yes," he replied, "but your father was a Lord. I hardly think your life was too hard before your marriage either."

"My father died when I was nine years old!" I snapped. "You should know, you were at his funeral!"

"Yes, I know that," he said. "But your stepmother inherited all his money. All of you must have lived comfortably after his death."

"My stepmother," I said through gritted teeth, "hated me. I spent ten years of my life as a slave in my own home. Every bit of cooking and every bit of cleaning was my responsibility. I slept in the attic, curled up by the fireplace. I was only allowed out of the house to go the market. So don't tell me that I've had an easy life or that I have no work experience. Don't you dare tell me that!"

He stared at me, opening his mouth and then closing it again. The silence in the room was somehow very loud, thunderous even. Lydia stood behind the counter, her hand over her mouth, looking back and forth from me to her brother.

Finally, Henry spoke. "You can have the job," he said. "Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Be here at nine in the morning."

I nodded. "Thank you."

He didn't reply, just nodded his head once and disappeared into the back room.

"I'm sorry about my brother," Lydia said, grabbing a stack of book and coming out from behind the counter. "He can be a bit…stern. And a little harsh. He says things that he doesn't really mean. But he's a good man. He's just spent years building up this impenetrable fort around himself. He never lets his guard down, never shows his true feelings."

"He never used to be like that," I said, watching as Lydia flitted from shelf to shelf, placing each book in its proper place on the shelves.

"No," she said, "but after Father lost all his money and left us, he had to become the man of the house and take care of my mother and me. I think he had to grow up too fast. He never had time for friends or for fun. He had to figure out how to make money and get food on our table. When he finally saved enough money to open this place last year, he completely threw himself into his work. I worry about him sometimes. It's like he feels the need to prove himself. But I don't know who he's trying to prove himself to."

_Maybe himself_, I thought.

"Our family used to be nobility," she said. "Now we're shopkeepers. I think that embarrasses him. But the only thing he can think to do about it is to make himself into the best shopkeeper in this whole town."

"It's a very nice shop," I said, looking around. "Probably the tidiest bookstore in the country. Maybe even the world."

She laughed. "Yes, probably."

"I should be going," I said, glancing up at the grandfather clock that was tucked away in the corner. "It was nice to see you again."

"See you on Monday," Lydia called after me, as I opened the door and stepped outside into the warm summer air.

As I made my way back to the town square, I thought about Henry Toulson.

Although I don't remember, I met Henry Toulson only a few days after I was born. He was only two months older than me and his family lived next door. Growing up we were best friends. We'd play for hours in our yards, laughing and chasing each other and buildings forts. When it snowed, we would go sledding and build snowmen. In the fall, we'd jump in piles of leaves. And after it rained, we jumped in puddles of water, soaking our clothes and upsetting our mothers.

When I eight, I decided that I was in love with him. And we pretended to get married under the large oak tree in his backyard. He gave me a ring made out of string and I wore it every day for month until it fell off in the bath. During our pretend wedding, he leaned down and kissed me right on the lips. My first kiss. And the last kiss I ever received until Edmund came along, many years later. You see, there weren't many opportunities to meet boys while living with my stepmother.

Two months after I "married" Henry, my father got sick. He was sick for nearly a year, and every day I watched him get worse and worse. Then a couple weeks before my tenth birthday, he passed away. And my life changed drastically.

I stopped walking. This was the anniversary of his death. Ten years ago on this very day, my father died. I had completely forgotten. How could I have forgotten?

I sat down on the end of the fountain and buried my head in my hands. My mind began to race, dozens of memories of my father and of Henry and of my old life spinning around in my brain. And then there was only one.

"_Ella!" Henry called. "Ella, come on. It's time to leave."_

_I didn't look up from where I was sitting cross-legged on the ground by my father's freshly dug grave. The funeral had just ended and everyone was gone. Everyone except Henry and me._

"_I can't," I whispered. "I can't leave him."_

"_Ella, you have to," he said, sitting down beside me and grabbing my hand. "It's getting dark. You can't stay here."_

"_Yes, I can," I whispered, wiping the tears from my eyes._

"_Your stepmother will be wondering where you are."_

"_No, she won't," I said. "She doesn't care about me."_

"_Then she's an idiot," he said, squeezing my hand tightly._

_I didn't reply, staring at the mound of dirt that now housed my father._

"_Ella," he said, "I'm leaving."_

"_No," I said, griping his hand tighter. "Stay with me."_

"_I don't mean now," he said quietly, ducking his head. "I mean that my family and I have to move. My father…he lost all our money, gambled it away. We're penniless. We're renting a house on the other side of town."_

"_But that's so far away," I whimpered. "How will I see you?"_

_He shrugged. "I don't know."_

"_This isn't fair," I said. "What am I supposed to do without you? I've already lost my father. I can't lose you too!"_

_Then suddenly, we were both crying. I think that's how we fell asleep, just laying there, holding each other and crying. His mother found us in the morning, curled up in the cemetery, leaves in our hair and dirt all over our clothes._

I never saw him again after he left. Not until today. And I didn't understand. I didn't understand how that sweet boy, my best friend in the world, had turned into the man I'd seen today. He was so arrogant, so stern, so _mean. _All he did was scowl and smirk and throw insults at people he barely knew.

The carriage pulled up and I stepped inside. As we drove off, I told myself to forget about Henry Toulson. I had more important things to worry about at the moment. Like how exactly I was going to be able to convince Edmund to let me have a job.

That was going to be an interesting conversation.

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

When I arrived home, I went straight up to my room. Flopping down on my bed, I sighed heavily. I still had no idea how I was going to convince Edmund to let me have a job.

"What's wrong, Ella?"

I lifted my head slightly. Sarah and Anna were standing in the doorway that connected my bedroom to my sitting room, each with concerned expressions on their faces.

"I accidently got a job," I said quietly. "And I don't know how I'm going to tell Edmund!"

The two girls exchanged a look. "Er, what?" Anna asked, a puzzled expression on her face.

"At a bookstore in town," I explained. "Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."

Sarah hurried over to my bed, a distraught expression on her round face. "Ella," she said, sitting down next to me, "why would you get a job?"

"Because I've been so bored!" I exclaimed. "Sitting around this castle, day in and day out—It's horrible!"

"Do we bore you?" Anna asked, from where she stood across the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

"No!" I said immediately. "Without my ladies-in-waiting, I don't know what I'd do." I smiled at them. "Especially you two," I added. "You're the first friends I've had in years, the first ones I've had since I was nine years old."

"Aww," Sarah cooed, throwing her arms around me. "I'm so glad to hear that!"

"Cant. Breathe," I gasped, attempting to loosen her grip.

"Sorry," she said brightly, letting me go. "It's just that I've always thought so highly of you, ever since we met. I'm so glad you consider me a friend."

I patted her arm. "Of course I consider you a friend, Sarah. You're a sweetheart."

"But why this particular bookstore?" Anna asked suddenly, her eyes narrowed.

Nobody could ever describe Anna as sweet, but I adored her anyway. Her brutal honesty and strong opinions were quite refreshing. She was someone who was exceptionally loyal to those she loved, and I knew that I could count on her for anything.

"I know the owner," I said. "Actually, he was the last friend I had before you two. He lived next door, but he moved away after my father died."

"What's his name?" Sarah asked.

"Henry," I replied. "Henry Toulson."

"Is he handsome?" she asked eagerly.

"Sarah!" Anna snapped.

"What? I'm just asking."

I thought about it. "Yes," I finally said. "I suppose he's very handsome."

"More handsome than Prince Edmund?" she asked.

Across the room, Anna rolled her eyes.

"Of course not," I said quickly. "Nobody's more handsome than my husband." I paused, thinking of Henry's piercing green eyes. "I'd say they're equally handsome, how about that?"

It was too bad Henry's personality left a lot to be desired. With that stupid smirk of his and his dismissive attitude, he was simply insufferable.

Sarah squealed. "Is he married?" she asked, giggling. "I want to meet him!"

"Whoa, there," Anna said, crossing the room and sitting down. "Do try to control yourself, Sarah. You sound more eager than a dog in heat."

Sarah glared at her. "I was only kidding, Anna. Why must you always spoil all the fun?"

Then suddenly they were bickering again, like they managed to do nearly every day. I knew they'd forgive each other quickly enough, just like they always did, and be friends again within the hour. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. I knew better than to try to join in on one of their petty arguments. I tried to once, but Catherine and Elizabeth, my other ladies-in-waiting, had dragged me away just in time.

Nearly ten minutes later, Sarah let out a loud gasp. "Oh my goodness!" I heard her exclaim from where I lay with my eyes still closed. "Anna, what are we doing?"

"Arguing?" Anna said, the word coming out more like a question than a statement.

"Yes!" Sarah replied dramatically. "We're arguing when Ella needs us! We're both horrible friends."

I opened my eyes. Sarah and Anna were both staring down at me. Sarah's blue eyes were even wider than usual, and Anna's brown eyes were filled with pity.

"Er," I said uncomfortably, "hello."

"Ella," Sarah said, "Anna and I are going to help you."

"Help me what?" I asked, sitting up.

"Figure out how to tell Edmund that you got a job, of course," she replied, rolling her eyes.

Anna nodded in agreement.

"Now," Sarah said, "I read a novel once where the heroine was in nearly the exact same position you're in now." She paused, her forehead wrinkling in manner that suggested she had just remembered something. "Except her husband was also a vampire. And he kept her locked up in the dungeon of his castle. And she didn't get a job, exactly. She started sneaking out to see a witch doctor in the village about an ailment she had contracted. And she didn't actually want her husband to find out about the visits. She spent the entire book trying to keep them from him."

Anna and I exchanged a look.

"And then in end she fell in love with the witch doctor's nephew who happened to be a pirate and they sailed away on his ship and lived happily ever after."

"I'm a little confused…" I said.

"Me too," Anna said. "How does that at all relate to Ella's situation? She got a job and wants to figure out a way to tell her husband about it. I fail to see how witch doctors or vampires are involved."

"Or pirates," I added.

"Okay, so it doesn't really relate. I was remembering it a bit incorrectly at first. Sorry," Sarah said defensively. "But it's a good book. You should both read it sometime if you get a chance."

"I'll pass," said Anna.

"Me too," I agreed.

She narrowed her eyes at us. "You two are so close-minded."

"Well, if by close-minded you mean we actually have taste, then yes, we're very close-minded," Anna replied. "I'll stick to reading book with redeeming qualities like educational value or a coherent plot."

"I just thought of another book I read that might help," Sarah said, ignoring Anna and turning to me. "This one was a about a girl who was locked up in a tower by an evil witch."

"Rapunzel?" I asked.

"No," she said. "This is a different story. This girl had regular-length hair."

Beside me, Anna sighed heavily.

"Anyway," Sarah continued, shooting daggers at Anna with her eyes, "the girl escapes from the tower and finds herself in the local village. She runs into a fortune teller there who predicts that she will die within a fortnight. This obviously scares her, but then she comes upon an old wizard who tells her that if she climbs to the top of the tallest mountain in the country and picks a rare wildflower that grows up there, brews it into a potion and drinks it, she won't die –"

I glanced over at Anna, who had pulled out a book on famous cathedrals of Europe and was currently engrossed in the chapter about the Notre Dame in France. I smiled to myself, shaking my head.

"—she then finds out the old wizard was actually a prince who had been cursed by the same witch who locked her in the tower. The two of them—"

"Sarah," I said, cutting her off. "As interesting as this story sounds, I don't think it's going to help me."

"Oh," she said. "Well, do you at least want to hear how it ends?"

"No," Anna said, closing her book and setting it aside. "We'd actually rather not."

"Okay, then," she said. "How do you propose that Ella goes about telling Prince Edmund about her job?"

Anna thought for a moment. "I know," she said. "I'll pretend to the prince. Ella, you practice what you're going to say to him at dinner tonight."

"Who do I get to be?" Sarah asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"You can be the footman who serves the food and doesn't say anything," Anna snapped.

She pouted, leaning back against the headboard and crossing her arms. "Fine."

"Okay," I said uncertainly. "Er, Edmund, dear?"

"Yes?" Anna replied, her voice unnaturally deep.

I suppressed a laugh. "As you know, I er… I went into town today."

"Yes, how was it?"

"It was fine. But the thing is I went into this bookstore and I ran into some old friends and long story short, Inowhaveajob."

"Whoa, slow down," Anna said, her voice back to its usual pitch. "It doesn't count as telling him if he can't understand a word you're saying."

"Right," I said nervously. "Let's try it again." I cleared my throat. "I had a great time in town, dear. I actually went into this bookstore and it turned out an old friend of mine is the owner. I asked him for a job and he said I could have one. Isn't that great?"

* * *

"You what?" Edmund's voice pierced through the air. He slammed his fist down on the table, hard enough that his wine glass nearly tipped over.

The king twitched, opening his eyes and looking around. "Huh? Whazzat? What's going on?" He looked around wildly for a moment and then closed his eyes and fell back asleep, his head landing head first in his mashed potatoes.

For a moment, Edmund was distracted. His father had been in poor health recently. He was sleeping much more often than he usually did and had become more and more forgetful. Tonight was the first time he'd eaten with us all week.

"Father?" Edmund said warily. "Father, wake up!"

The king didn't stir.

Edmund snapped his fingers, motioning to the nearest footmen. "Do something about him, would you?" he asked.

I watched as several men helped the king to his feet, guiding him out of the room.

Edmund turned back to me. "Ella," he said, his voice a bit calmer this time, "I fail to see why you need a job. You're a princess. You don't need any money. If you want anything, anything at all, just ask. I'll make sure you get it. I want you to be happy, darling."

"I'm glad you feel that way, Edmund," I said. "Because I think having a job will make me happy."

"But…but why?" he sputtered.

I knew it had to be hard for him to understand. He'd been a prince his entire life, spoiled rotten from the moment he was born.

"I'm bored, Edmund. Being here all day with nothing to do—I don't like it."

"There are plenty of things to do," he argued. "You can read, write, take walks, chat with your friends, play cards, play tennis, go horseback riding…Anything."

"Yes, and that's all very nice," I said. "But I want something _real _to do. Something that has a purpose."

"I don't feel comfortable with this at all," he said. "You should have come to me first if you were unhappy. We could have talked about this. Maybe I could have found you a job that was more…suitable."

"Suitable?" I asked. "How is this not suitable?"

"Well, I don't know," he said, obviously struggling to put his thoughts into words. "It's just…well, you don't really hear about many women working in shops, do you? Unless they're a seamstress or a laundress or something like that."

My mouth fell open. "For your information, the owner of the shop employs his sister, as well. So I wouldn't be the only female working there."

He sighed heavily, picking up his glass and draining it one gulp. "Fine," he said. "Fine, go work in the bookstore. You'll be the only princess in the history of this family to work in a shop, but that doesn't _really _matter, does it? After all, traditions are meant to be broken, aren't they? Hey, maybe I can become a blacksmith. Maybe Father can retire from being king and go work on a farm."

"Edmund," I said, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "Be quiet."

He looked up, surprised.

"You're going off on a rant," I told him.

"Sorry," he muttered, running his hand through his dark hair, causing it to stick out in all sorts of strange angles.

"Let's go up to bed," I suggested, reaching out to smooth down his hair.

"Now?" he asked, pulling out his pocket watch. "It's rather early, don't you think?"

"Mmm," I agreed. "But I don't mind, do you?"

"No," he said, standing up. "I suppose I don't."

"Good," I said, leading him out of the room. "I'm glad to hear it."

* * *

**The next chapter will have Ella's birthday party/ball thing. It's going to be an _enlightening_ chapter, I think. Secrets will be revealed. New characters will be introduced. So stay tuned.**

**But for now, just review. I'd really appreciate it...And love you forever :)**


	5. Chapter 5

"Ella."

I let out a small moan, caught somewhere in that state between being asleep and being awake in which you are not sure if you are dreaming or not. That groggy state when you can't tell what is real and what is not. When you don't know where you are or who is speaking or if the dream you just had was actually reality.

"Ella," the voice said again.

I rolled over, trying to get away from the voice. It was too late to talk to anyone. Or too early. Not sure. Too tired. Couldn't think.

There was a rustling of sheets and I felt someone slip into bed next to me.

"Ella," the voice said for the third time.

"Go away, Edmund," I murmured. "Trying to sleep. Too tired to talk."

"Happy birthday, Ella," he said

I cracked open an eye. He was lying beside me, his face so close that are noses were practically touching. I opened the other eye. He was staring at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Did you miss the part where I said I was too tired to talk," I murmured, yawning.

"No," he replied. "I just chose to ignore it."

"What time is it?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"It is precisely 3:41 in the morning," he told me. "Which means that you have been 20 years old for exactly three minutes."

"How do you even know that?" I asked. "_I_ don't even know what time I was born."

"I am the prince," he responded matter-of-factly, "which means that I have access to all sorts of records. So I happen to know for a fact that you were born on September 28 at exactly 3:38 in the morning to Lord Anthony and Lady Celeste Tremaine."

"Stalker," I whispered.

"Yes," he said. "You're right. I've been stalking you for your entire life. Now that you're finally my wife, I can carry out the final stage of my plan."

"And what plan is that?" I asked.

"To have you brutally murdered," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "And then chopped up into little pieces and served to me in my stew at dinner."

"Ohh," I said, "so exactly what you had done to the gardener last week, then?"

"Yes, exactly that," he replied, leaning forward to kiss lightly on the lips. "Only I was hoping you hadn't found out about that."

"Well, I did. There was blood all over the rose bushes."

"I'll do a better job hiding the evidence next time."

I smiled, wishing that every moment we spent together could be like this, carefree and silly, without him worrying about things like tradition or what was _proper _and _acceptable_. Just a small, inconsequential moment shared between two people who loved each other.

"So how's it feel to be 20?" he asked.

"Not that different than 19," I said.

"Aw, come on, that can't be true," he said. "Seven minutes ago you were still a teenager. Something must be different."

"Seven minutes ago I was still happily asleep. But then some insensitive jerk climbed into my bed and insisted on talking."

"You're right," Edmund said. "That man sounds like an idiot."

"He is."

"After all," he continued, his hand brushing the hair from my face. "Why would anyone climb into bed with someone as beautiful as you and then proceed to _talk_? Surely there were other things that they could have better occupied their time with?"

"I like the way you think," I said, giggling.

"I'm glad," he said, leaning in and kissing me again. "Because I have a birthday present I've been dying to give you."

* * *

"You look so beautiful!" Sarah squealed, jumping up and down. "This dress is amazing!"

I stared at my reflection in the full length mirror. She was right, the dress was amazing. Maybe not as amazing as the dress I wore to my first ball, but considering this one hadn't come from a magical fairy godmother like that dress had, it was pretty impressive. It was a pale pink color, with tiny diamonds sewn into the bodice and a poofy skirt that made me feel more like a princess that I ever had in my life.

"You're going to be the most beautiful girl at the ball, no doubt about it," she continued, standing on her toes and adjusting my tiara. "Every girl is going to be so envious of you. By the end of the night, they'll probably all be plotting various ways to kill you and take the dress and your husband for themselves!"

She seemed a little too excited about this prospect.

"Sarah, darling," Anna said, rolling her eyes, "You read too many novels."

"There's no such thing as reading too many novels," Sarah replied, placing her hands on her hips and inspecting me. She made a twirling motion with her finger, signaling me to spin around for her. I did so and she let out another squeal, clapping her hands together excitedly.

"Yes, there is," Anna said, sitting down at my vanity and powdering her nose. "Ella's going to go to this ball. She's going to dance with her husband, as well as with many other diplomats who won't be able to keep their sweaty hands off of her. She'll smile and greet people and eat some cake. No one will try to kill her. And then the ball will end. And her life will proceed as usual. Not everything is as dramatic and ridiculous as it is in your silly romance novels. Life isn't a fairytale."

"Ladies," Catherine said, entering the room, Elizabeth trailing behind her. "Let's try to be civil, shall we? The ball starts soon and I don't want you two arguing by the punch bowl all night."

Catherine was the oldest of my ladies-in-waiting. She was in her mid-thirties, making her about ten years older than Anna (the second oldest). In a way she was a mother to all of us, keeping us in line and making sure we were where we needed to be, when we needed to be.

"Now," she said, glancing up at the clock. "It's almost time for Ella's grand entrance." She smiled at me. "Are you ready, dear?"

"I think so," I said. "As long as I can learn to breathe while wearing this." I looked at Sarah. "Are you sure you can't loosen the corset a little bit?"

She shook her head, smiling happily. "No, I'm afraid I can't. Beauty is pain, my dear."

Catherine took my hand. "Come on, Ella. It's time."

* * *

I stood at the top of the grand staircase, my heart beating wildly. I wasn't sure why I was even nervous. I had been at the center of attention before. I was a princess, for goodness' sake. I'd had a wedding, attended by hundreds of the most important people in the kingdom. This wasn't any different. Except, at my wedding I had only had to walk down an aisle with everyone staring at me. Now I had to walk down an entire flight of stairs with everyone staring at me.

"Presenting Her Royal Highness, Princess Ella!"

I took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows. Suddenly hundreds of pairs of eyes were on me. I smiled, hoping that it didn't look more like a grimace and started down the stairs as the music began to play.

_Don't trip._

_Don't trip._

_Don't trip._

My feet touched the tiled floor. I had made it! I glanced up. Everyone was still staring at me. What was I supposed to do now? Had I been told? Where was Edmund?

Suddenly a swarm of people surrounded me, dozens of people all at once, wishing me a happy birthday, offering to get me something to drink, asking me to dance.

I smiled at all of them politely, trying to respond to each of them as I pushed through the crowd, looking for Edmund.

Finally I found him, talking to a short man with a long black beard

"Edmund," I said. "There you are."

"Ella," he said, kissing me on the cheek, "I want you to meet Baron Esposito."

I smiled, shaking the man's hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Your Highness," he said, his accent thick.

"The Baron's daughter is over there," Edmund said, pointing to a girl dancing across the room. Even from across the room, I could tell she was beautiful, with shiny black hair twisted up into a complicated updo that I wasn't sure even Sarah could manage. Her dress was gold-colored and clung to her every curve.

"Her name is Rosa Antonietta," Edmund continued. "She's about your age, Ella. If you get a chance, you should introduce yourself. I'm sure she'd love to meet you."

He turned to the Baron and said something in a language I didn't know. They both laughed.

"Am I missing out on a funny joke?" I asked.

"Oh, no," Edmund said. "Nothing like that."

I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.

"Okay, then," I said. "I'm going to get something to drink. If I see the Baron's daughter, I'll be sure to introduce myself."

"She's engaged to Prince Alexander. You remember him from the wedding, don't you?" Edmund asked.

"Oh, yes," I said. "How lovely. I'll be sure to congratulate her."

Alexander was a prince from one of our neighboring countries. He was quite an unpleasant man, with beady eyes and oily skin. I did not envy Rosa one bit if that was the man she had to marry.

"Darling, get me something to drink too, please," Edmund said, as turned to leave. "After that, we'll dance. How does that sound?"

I glanced back at him over my shoulder. "That sounds lovely."

* * *

Unfortunately, getting something to drink turned into an hour-long excursion. People kept stopping me, introducing themselves and wishing me a happy birthday, before dragging me into their conversations about the war and the economy and the Church's decision to do this or that. Each time I simply nodded and smiled and pretended I knew what they were talking about, before I finally managed to excuse myself and take a few more steps toward the refreshment table before being stopped again.

By the time I had gotten our drinks, I had no idea where Edmund had gotten to. I walked around the entire room, avoiding as many people as possible, but couldn't find him anywhere.

"Sarah!" I called, spotting her a few feet away and waving her over. "Have you seen Edmund?"

"Er, yes," she said, nodding. "He was talking to some girl with black hair a few minutes ago."

"Was she wearing a gold-colored dress?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Do you know where they went?" I asked. "He wanted me to get him something to drink." I held up the glass. "And I did, so now I need to find him."

Sarah cocked her head to the side. "Are you feeling alright? You sound a bit strange."

"I'm fine," I said, even though I wasn't. I didn't even know why. So he was talking to Rosa, the Baron's beautiful daughter. I had talked to lots of men that night (not exactly by choice, but still) and I was sure that many of them had been handsome. That hadn't meant anything. But for some reason, jealousy had planted itself firmly in my mind.

"I think they went that way," she said, pointing at the large oak doors that led out of the ballroom.

"Thank you," I said, hurrying away.

I pushed open the doors and entered the long hallway, looking around wildly. There were so many rooms. They could be anywhere.

Suddenly I heard giggling, followed by voices and a bit of shushing. Then more giggling.

I followed the laughter down to the very end of the hallway, then peered around the corner, as carefully as possible.

My heart stopped for a moment, and then it felt as if it plunged into my stomach. I let out a gasp and then clapped my hand over my mouth. But neither of them had heard me. They were too busy kissing up against the wall.

I leaned back, safely out of sight again. I stood there for moment, my feet glued to the floor. I needed to move. I had to get out of there. But I couldn't. I had just seen my husband kissing another woman. At my birthday party, of all places! So many different emotions passed over me all at once –anger, betrayal, sadness, and an overwhelming sense of loneliness.

I heard more giggling. Then a door slammed shut. I peered back around the corner. They were both gone.

Suddenly, it was as if my feet had come unstuck. I took off down the hallway, still clutching both of those stupid glasses of punch in each hand. I had gotten him something to drink! I had gotten him something to drink while he was off with some other girl!

I burst back through the doors and thrust the drinks into the hands of the nearest person, ignoring his bewildered expression. Taking the stairs two at a time, I dashed back upstairs.

Once I was in my room, I threw myself down on my bed and burst into tears. I don't know how long I laid there by myself, bawling my eyes out, but eventually I felt someone sit down beside me. I turned my head, wiping the tears out of my eyes, expecting to see Sarah or Anna. Perhaps one of them had seen me run up here and had followed.

Instead, I was greeted by serene face of my Fairy Godmother.

"Hello, my dear," she said kindly.

I sat up, launching myself into her arms.

"Oh, Fairy Godmother!" I cried through my tears. "This is the worst birthday I've ever had!"

"Yes, my dear, I'd imagine so," she said, her voice calm and soothing as she cradled me in her arms.

I tilted my face up so I could see hers. "So you know what happened?"

She nodded gravely. "Yes, dear. And I am so very, very sorry."

"I think he's been cheating on me this entire time," I said. "Even on our honeymoon."

I remembered coming down to breakfast that first morning, finding him and Catalina the maid deep in conversation. Later she'd hardly been able to look me straight in the eyes. At the time I hadn't known why, but now I did.

"I've been so foolish," I murmured.

"This isn't your fault, Ella, dear. I hope you don't think it is."

"Isn't it?" I asked. "Isn't it my job as his wife to keep him satisfied?"

"Ella, he made a commitment to you, a life-long commitment. And now he has broken that. He is entirely at fault. Not you."

It didn't really feel that way.

* * *

**Leave me a comment telling me what you think about this turn of events!**** Are you surprised? Probably not. I wasn't really trying to hide the fact that Edmund is a bit of a jerk.**

**Side note-Ella's birthday and time of birth are the same as mine (September 28th at 3:38 in the morning).**


	6. Author's Note

So obviously this isn't a new chapter, it's just an author's note. Sorry about that.

Somehow when I posted chapter five today, the very end got cut off and didn't get posted. I didn't notice until now, but you guys might want to go back and read it because I just fixed it.


	7. Chapter 6

The next morning, I drifted downstairs in what felt like a bit of a haze. I'd barely slept the night before. After my fairy godmother left, I eventually stopped crying. But for most of the night, I had simply laid there. Not crying. Just thinking. And that image, that dreadful image of my husband – the man I loved – holding another woman in his arms, kept running through my head. And I thought about our honeymoon and the way he'd looked at the maid Catalina over breakfast that first morning, the way she barely had been able to make eye contact with me later that day. It all made sense now. He'd been unfaithful since the beginning. The very beginning.

When my ladies-in-waiting awoke me that morning I had barely gotten three hours of sleep. Luckily, my fairy godmother had gotten me changed into my nightgown the night before and had gotten the smeared makeup washed off my face, so none of them noticed anything strange about my appearance. Which was quite the relief. I didn't think I would have been able to handle their bombardment of questions if they had found me this morning still in my gown from the night before, with mascara staining my cheeks and my hair still in a semi-intact updo.

I entered the dining room. Edmund was sitting in his usual seat, his eyes, as usual, glued to his newspaper. I sat down, still wondering what I should say to him. Should I confront him? Let him know that I knew what he had done? Simply hint at it? Or say nothing at all? Pretend that nothing had changed between us? Continue to play the loving wife to a husband who had no intention of loving me back the way I deserved.

"Good morning, Ella," he said, looking up from his paper for long enough to kiss me on the cheek.

As his lips brushed against my skin, all I could think about was the fact that I was not the only one those lips had been kissing. They'd kissed another woman merely hours before. I felt sick.

"Where did you disappear to last night?" he asked, biting into a biscuit. "I looked all over for you, but I couldn't find you anywhere? Did you not enjoy your birthday?"

"I wasn't feeling well," I said. "So I went up to bed."

"Are you still feeling ill?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

_Concern. _He actually had the nerve to look concerned about me. How ridiculous! As if he cared about me at all! Or maybe he could only bother to be concerned about my physical health. My emotional health, on the other hand, well…it was obvious he couldn't be bothered.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No, I am absolutely, positively dandy this morning."

He lifted an eyebrow. "I detect some sarcasm in your tone."

Perhaps I'd gone overboard with the faux chipper attitude.

"No sarcasm," I said. "I feel fine. More than fine actually. Completely healthy. I'm sure I just ate something last night that didn't agree with me."

"Mmmm," he murmured, in a way that made me think he didn't entirely believe me.

After that we fell silent, him continuing to read his newspaper and actually eat his food, while I merely pushed my food around a bit on my plate to give the illusion that I had eaten. My stomach wasn't exactly up for the task of consuming anything at the moment.

"You should read this article," Edmund said after a while. "It's rather interesting."

"I actually don't have time," I said, standing up.

He set the paper down and looked up at me, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's Monday," I said. "And I have a job to get to."

"Oh, yes," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'd forgotten about that."

The dismissive tone of his voice angered me. "Edmund, this is the second week that I've had this job! I was gone last week on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. How could you have forgotten?"

"I guess I tend to block unwanted memories from my mind," he replied.

His response only served to further frustrate me. "What is your problem with me having a job?" I snapped. "Is it really that horrifying that you must block out all evidence of its existence? It's not that big of a deal!"

"We already discussed my feeling on the matter," he said calmly. "But I let you have the job anyway. So please stop treating me like I am some horrible villain out to crush all your dreams."

"_Let_?!" I screeched. "You l_et_ me have the job? What, do I no longer have free will? Am I a child? A pet? You didn't_ let_ me do anything!"

"That was the wrong choice of words," he said, his voice slightly more in edge this time. "I simply meant that I decided not to put up a fight on the matter. I never claimed to be overjoyed with the idea, but I decided to accept it. So I fail to understand why you are picking this fight with me right now."

"You started it!" I retorted, perhaps a bit childishly.

"I did not!" he said indigently. "I simply said that I had forgotten you needed to work today. You were the one who chose me to attack me for it."

I crossed my arms and glared at him.

"Ella," he sighed, leaning back in his chair, "I've said it before and I'll say it again now: If you want this job, then you can have it. I just want you to be happy."

I had to stifle a laugh. How absurd! He wanted me to be happy? Because from the little scene I had witnessed the night before, it didn't really seem like he cared at all.

"I don't need your permission," I growled.

"No," he replied, "you don't. You are my wife, not my servant, and I apologize if you have ever felt like I am bossing you around. You can do whatever you like. I am powerless to stop you. I can only offer my opinion on the matter, which is what I am doing now. I don't like that you have a job, but I still fine with it. And I will not try to dissuade you from working at that shop anymore."

I should have felt nothing but hatred toward him, toward this man who had shattered my heart right open the night before. But I'd seen so many marriages in which a husband honestly believed that he was in complete control of his wife, that she was a puppet had his complete disposal. So I couldn't help but feel a flicker of gratitude about the fact that although I had a husband who was a cheater and liar, at least I had a husband who let me think for myself.

"Fine," I said coolly. "I'll see you this evening."

"Ella," he said, just as I was turning to leave.

"What?"

"Did you…last night…did you happen to see …?" He trailed off, staring down at his plate.

"See what?" I asked, faking a puzzled expression.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "Absolutely nothing."

* * *

Although I had worked at _Toulson Books_ the previous week, it had only been Lydia and me. Henry, much to my relief, had been away in a neighboring kingdom, attending an old school friend's wedding. Consequently, my first week on the job had actually been rather enjoyable. Lydia was simply lovely and she had been king and patient while showing me the ropes. I had gotten the hang of things almost immediately and we had developed a bit of a friendship.

The problem was that had been last week and this, well…this was this week. Henry was back and just as unpleasant as ever. And somehow, for whatever reason, I had developed this annoying habit of turning into an utter klutz whenever he was around. I dropped books, stuttered, tripped over my own feet, shelved books in the wrong places, and handed back change incorrectly the entire day. I couldn't imagine what he must have thought about me, but if the scowl on his face was any clue, he must have really been fed up. To make matters worse, Lydia was home sick with the stomach flu. So it was just me and him and a heavy silence between us. He didn't speak to me unless it was to point out that I had done something wrong. All my attempts at small talk fell flat and eventually I gave up completely.

But of course, because a cheating husband and a horrible unpleasant boss were not enough of a reason for me to abhor that day with every ounce of my being, God must have decided that I apparently needed to continue to be punished for some unspeakable crime I did not remember committing. Because right there, in the doorway of the shop I worked in, stood my stepsisters. Anastasia and Drizella. Two girls that I was sure even hell would cringe at the sight of.

"Oh my goodness!" Anastasia exclaimed, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. "Drizella, look who it is!"

Drizella's mouth dropped open. "Cinderella!"

"It's Ella," I murmured.

"What are you doing here?" Drizella asked, as they walked further into the shop. "Did Prince Charming finally grow tired of you and kick you out of his castle?"

Her words hurt more than they should have. They struck a bit too close to home. Edmund hadn't actually kicked me out, but it was obvious he had grown tired of me.

I gripped the edge of the counter tightly. "No, Drizella," I said, as calmly as I could. "I simply decided to get a job."

"But you're a princess now," Anastasia said, stopping to adjust one of her red curls in the reflection of the window. "Why do you want a job?"

I gritted my teeth and shrugged, wishing more than anything that they would leave.

"Isn't it obvious?" Drizella said, sneering in my direction. "Marrying a prince didn't change anything. She's still trash. She was born trash and she'll die trash. She can marry into as many royal families as she wants, but it will never change that. She's trash and this is where she belongs, doing the work of a _peasant_."

"I am not trash!" I snarled. "My father was a nobleman!"

Drizella rolled her eyes, as if little things like facts were simply not enough to deter her from what she obviously felt was the truth.

I opened my mouth to shout something else, or perhaps to inquire as to why they were even in a bookstore. I'd never seen either of them willingly pick of a book. Ever.

But before I could say anything, Henry appeared out of the back room, a furious expression on his face.

"Why are you shouting at the customers?" he hissed.

"They're just my stepsisters!" I exclaimed. "And they deserve it!"

"They're still customers!" he snapped. "And they will be treated with the same respect that all our customers are to be treated with."

A small smile spread across Drizella's face. "Yes, _Cinder_ella, you should show us a bit of respect." Anastasia nodded in agreement, once again too stupid to have her own opinions and once again relying on her older sister to have opinions for her.

Henry's face wrinkled in confusion when he heard Drizella call me Cinderella. He shot a look in my direction, but I merely shook my head and stared at the ground.

"Why don't you apologize to these lovely ladies," he said after a moment, somehow without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "And then, Your Highness, help them find what they're looking for. Preferably without raising your voice this time."

"Yes, Henry," I muttered. "I'll be sure to do just that."

"I think you should call me Mr. Toulson," he said, that stupid, ever-present smirk of his growing wider. "I am your employer, after all. Regardless of whether or not you're a princess."

"Don't be ridiculous!" I exclaimed. "I've known you since we were in diapers. I'm not going to call you Mr. Toulson."

"You will if you want to keep your job," he replied. "Now apologize to your sisters."

"_Step_sisters."

"Same thing," he muttered irritably.

"Hardly," I replied, glaring at the back of his head as he disappeared from sight again.

I loathed him. Simply loathed him.

* * *

Because that day had decided to have not a single positive aspect to serve as a ray of hope or comfort in my ever-darkening life, the king seemed to be more ill than ever at dinner that night. And not just physically, but mentally as well.

"Where's my wife?" He asked, spearing his meatloaf with a fork. "Why is she not eating with us?"

Edmund shot a frantic look in my direction. But I had no idea how to respond. I just shrugged, shaking my head sympathetically.

"Father," Edmund said, as gently as possible,"your wife is dead."

"Impossible!" the old man declared. "I was just talking to her before dinner."

"No," Edmund said. "She's gone, Father. Mother's gone. She passed away long ago."

"No!" the king cried, shaking his head violently back and forth. "No! No! No! She's not gone! She's not dead! She's here in the castle! And I want her to eat with us!"

"I want her to eat with us too," Edmund replied, his voice cracking. "But she can't."

"Nonsense!" his father shouted. "Of course she can. Meatloaf is her favorite."

"Father!" Edmund exclaimed hysterically. "Father, stop." He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "_Papa_, please stop. For me."

But his father didn't listen. He was too far gone. Edmund sighed, motioning at of the footman. "You know what do," he ordered, burying his face in his hands.

A few minutes later, the king had been removed from the room, taken up to bed where hopefully he would fall asleep and awake much less confused in the morning.

I turned to look at Edmund. He was staring at his father's empty chair, a tired expression on his face.

"I'm losing him, Ella," he whispered. He turned and looked at me, tears swimming in his chocolate-colored eyes. "I'm going to lose him forever."

Cheating, lying husbands weren't supposed to ever seem this sympathetic. I didn't want to feel sorry for him. I really, really didn't.

"I'm sorry, darling," I murmured. "I truly am."

* * *

**I wrote this chapter in the middle of the night while I was sleep-deprived, really hungry, and freaking out about college. So I apologize if it's not very good.**


	8. Chapter 7

"Mr. Toulson," I said timidly, about a month after beginning my job at his shop, the words feeling utterly ridiculous coming out of my mouth. I still hadn't gotten used to calling him by his surname. He would always be Henry to me.

He turned. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor." I paused, watching his face to see if I continue or if I should wait until he was in a better mood.

He sighed, setting down the quill he had been using to take inventory. "What kind of favor?" he asked.

"Well," I began, "I kind of need next week off."

"All of next week?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"It's just three days," I said.

"_Just_ three days?" he repeated, lifting an eyebrow. "I think that's asking a lot, don't you? Especially considering you've only worked here, what, a month?"

I dropped my gaze. There was something about his eyes that made it hard to make eye contact with him for too long. They were so bright, so piercing. They conveyed every emotion so easily, so perfectly. When we were children, I'd always been able to tell what he was feeling, even when he insisted that he was feeling something completely different, simply by looking into those wide green eyes of his. Back then, they had always been swimming with kindness and love. They had lit up when he saw me and had seemingly twinkled when he told a joke. Sadness and anger had been much rarer then. But now when I looked into his eyes, I mostly only saw disappointment or annoyance. I'd never imagined that someday he'd look at me with such distaste.

"I'm sorry if I'm asking too much," I said, "but Edmund and I have been invited to visit some friends for the week. I can't miss it. He wouldn't allow it."

"Fine," Henry sighed, shoving a pile of books into my hands. "Mrs. Callaghan wants these delivered to her house. Will you take them for me? Here's the address." He placed a scrap of paper on top of the stack.

"So are you saying I can have next week off?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, rolling his eyes. "Now go deliver those books before I change my mind."

"Thank you!" I said, as I rushed toward the door. The stack of books wobbled back and forth and the top one fell to the ground. I bent to pick it up, but only managed to drop the rest of them.

"My god," Henry said tiredly from behind the counter. "Put them in a bag or basket or something. Honestly, Your Highness, I think you had more common sense when you were nine years old."

I hated how clumsy and silly I became around him. It only ever happened around him, around Lydia and anyone else I was a perfectly normal, functioning human being. But it was like whenever he was near, all I could think about were his piercing green eyes watching my every move and I lost all ability to do anything right. I became so determined not to mess up that I turned into a nervous wreck that made more mistakes than ever.

* * *

I returned from my delivery trip about an hour later. I hadn't meant to stay so long, but Mrs. Callaghan was a lonely old widow who lived in a bog house all by herself on the outskirts of town. She had been delighted for a bit of company and had insisted on making me some tea and telling me several long-winded stories about her cats and her deceased husband. I hadn't minded though, any time was time well spent if Henry Toulson was nowhere in sight.

I was about to pull open the door and walk inside when something stopped me in my tracks. Through the window, I could see Henry talking to a girl. Now this wouldn't have been a particularly unusual event, if it hadn't been for their body language. One look at them and I could tell they were not just acquaintances. For one thing, they were standing mere inches apart, his hand resting in the small of her back. And perhaps most surprising about the whole thing was that he was _smiling_. Not the somewhat strained, polite smile he gave most customers, but a full-blown grin. Whoever this girl was, she had to really be something. Because she made Henry Toulson laugh. Yes, as I watched through the window, he tilted his head back and actually laughed.

I had no idea who this girl was. He'd never mentioned that he was courting anyone. Then again the two of us never really chatted about our personal lives. But even after only a couple minutes of watching them, even without being able to hear anything the two of them were saying, I could tell that they were a good match. They were comfortable around each other, relaxed and easy-going. Not only that, but they simply _looked_ perfect together. Henry was a very tall man, probably about 6'3" or 6'4". And this girl was tiny. Everything about her was tiny. Her stature and her waist and her little button nose. Her strawberry-blonde hair fell in loose curls down her back. Her paisley dress and yellow bonnet were simple, but made her look youthful and carefree. To put it simply, she was much too cute and he was much too handsome. They were sickeningly perfect.

"Ella?" a voice behind me said. "What are you doing?"

I spun around. Lydia was standing there, looking at me curiously. "Aren't you going to go inside?" she asked.

"Yes, yes," I said. "Of course. I was just wondering who that girl is, the one inside with Henry."

Lydia shot a quick glance inside. "Oh," she said. "That's Mary."

"Mary?"

"My brother's fiancée," she replied.

"Henry has a fiancée?" I asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes, of course," Lydia said. "Surely you knew that?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "He never mentioned anything. The two of us…don't exactly talk. Unless it's him ordering me around or scolding me."

"Oh," she said. "I see."

"How come I've never seen her around before?" I asked. "If they're engaged, I would think she'd stop by every once and a while."

"She's been away," Lydia told me. "She goes to an all-girls school out in the country. But she'll finish next spring and then they shall marry."

"How nice," I said, not sure how sincere my words sounded.

"Come inside and meet her," Lydia said. "She's simply lovely. And so accomplished. She can speak three languages, can you believe it? And she's probably the best piano player I've heard."

I followed Lydia inside, only half-listening as she continued to rattle off all of Mary's many talents and accomplishments, a strange feeling stirring somewhere in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't quite explain it, but something inside me, something that felt a lot like jealousy, flickered inside me when I looked at the two of them together. This bothered me for several reasons, the main one being that _I could not stand_ Henry Toulson. There was absolutely no reason for me to be envious of this Mary girl.

I told myself that I wasn't really jealous of the fact that Henry was in love with someone that wasn't me. That would be simply ridiculous and, quite frankly, just plain untrue. I did not care who Henry loved. I most certainly did not care who he married. I was not jealous of them specifically, I was just jealous that they were seemingly a happy couple who were soon to be joined in a happy marriage. After discovering Edmund's infidelity, there was a part of me that grew sad every time I saw a happy couple. I knew they could be having problems that I didn't know about, but they didn't look like they were. All I wanted to be was as happy and in love as they appeared to be. I wanted a husband who was satisfied with me and only me, in the way that Henry seemed to be satisfied with Mary.

There was also a part of me that was upset by the fact that the fact that Henry smiled and laughed with this girl meant that the scowls and borderline nasty remarks he sent in my direction meant that he genuinely did not like me. It meant that it wasn't the way he treated everyone. It was the way he treated _me._ Lydia had said that he was closed off from the world, that he had built up a fortress around himself and refused to let anyone in. But that obviously wasn't the complete truth. He'd opened himself up enough to get engaged, hadn't he? This meant his dislike of me had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. And that was a hurtful fact to discover.

So yes, seeing Henry and Mary together upset me. But only because happy couples reminded me of what I didn't have with Edmund. Only because it meant that his dislike of me was obviously something specific and not something he felt toward the general population. It had nothing to do with me actually being jealous. I did not have feelings for Henry Toulson. I hadn't had feeling for Henry Toulson since I was nine years old.

Still, there was part of me that wanted to inform this Mary girl that he had loved me before he had ever even known who she was. That he had married me beneath an oak tree when were eight years old and given me my first kiss and known my every secret. I'd given my heart before I was even old enough to understand what love was. Of course, I was being ridiculous. We had been children then. And we hadn't seen each other in years. I knew nothing about Henry Toulson anymore and he knew nothing about me. Whatever we'd had as children was gone. I knew that whoever Mary was, she knew him much better than I did now. Bringing up the past would be petty and pointless and make me look like a silly schoolgirl. Henry loved Mary, not me. And I loved Edmund. And Edmund loved himself.

So I merely smiled and shook Mary's hand and introduced myself. She squealed in delight when she discovered that I was the princess and proceeded to ask me a dozen questions about what it was like to live in a castle and how many dresses I owned and what Prince Edmund was like. Behind her, Henry rolled his eyes and shook his head, but still gazed down at her fondly as he absentmindedly ran his hand through her hair.

Maybe it was a good thing I was getting away for a week.

It was too bad that the friends Edmund and I were visiting happened to be Rosa Antonietta and her brand-new husband, Prince Alexander.

Rosa, the girl I'd seen Edmund with on the night of my birthday.

This would be fun.

* * *

Prince Alexander was really the vilest man I'd ever had the misfortune of coming across in my life. At dinner during the first night of our visit, he spent half of the meal leering at my chest and the other half ranting about whatever ignorant nonsense popped into that ugly head of his.

"They've scientifically proven it!" he exclaimed loudly. "We whites are simply more intelligent than everyone else –"

Edmund and I exchanged a look as Alexander continued his racial tirade. Across the table, Rosa buried her face in her hands, obviously embarrassed by her husband's behavior.

"So, Alexander, old chap," Edmund said loudly, interrupting whatever ridiculously ignorant point the man was trying to make, "I heard you mention something about a new portrait you commissioned of you and your wife. Who was it you said that painted it? He'd quite well known, isn't he? I was thinking that Ella and I should sit for a portrait sometimes soon. I'm trying to find a painter that would do her beauty justice."

I watched Rosa's eyes narrow in response to that last statement about my beauty. All throughout dinner, she'd been trying to hold Edmund's attention, batting her eyelashes and leaning forward to display her breasts. But no matter how hard she flirted, he just didn't seem to notice or care. Whatever interest he'd once had in her was obviously long gone. Not that that was particularly surprising. Before he'd married me, Edmund had been known throughout the kingdom for his many romantic conquests. He was always pursuing a new girl, always turning on his charm and getting some naive young lady to fall willingly into his arms. He was infamous for losing interest in a matter of weeks and then moving on to his next victim. His father had grown fed up with his behavior. He wanted to see his grandchildren before he passed away. So he had hosted a ball for all the eligible young maidens in the land, hoping that Edmund would at last meet _someone _who would hold his attention, who he would finally fall in love with and marry. And that someone had turned out to be me. The problem was that people couldn't change overnight. I don't know if Edmund really had thought that he could stay faithful to me or if he just wanted to make his father happy, but it was obvious he was still the same heartbreaker he'd always been.

The only thing that made me feel slightly smug as I watched Rosa's failed attempts to flirt with my husband was the fact that, unlike with her and every other girl, Edmund hadn't grown completely tired of me. Yes, he cheated. But he hadn't lost all interest. He still smiled at me and kissed me and made love to me. He hadn't forgotten me like he had every other girl. I was _not_ every other girl. I was his wife. I was the future queen.

Besides, extramarital affairs had always run rampant through the history of almost all royal families. Kings and princes almost always had mistresses. I shouldn't really even be that surprised. I should have practically expected it. Or at least that was what I kept telling myself.

After dinner, the four of us went into the parlor for after-dinner drinks. The men lit their cigars and we all gathered around a small table for a game of cards. Things were going well until Rosa and Alexander got into an argument. A very loud argument that mostly seemed to consist of Alexander telling Rosa how stupid she was, how useless she was, how she never did anything right, while Rosa sat there quietly and took it.

I squirmed uncomfortably, watching as Rosa grew closer and closer to tears. Suddenly, I felt Edmund's hand in mine. He pulled me to my feet and led me to the door. Neither of them seemed to notice us slip out of the room. Out in the corridor, we leaned up against the wall.

"We'll just wait for them to finish out here," Edmund said. "I didn't fancy sitting in the middle of that for any longer. It was getting a little too uncomfortable."

Inside the room, Alexander's voice grew louder.

"Edmund," I whispered, "why are you friends with that man? He's vile."

Edmund shrugged. "Our fathers are friends. I've known him since I was a child. I don't know, it's not that I _like_ the man or anything."

Suddenly, Rosa let out a loud shriek. "Let go of me!" she shouted. "Alexander, let go!"

Edmund and I scooted toward the door and peered in. I let out a gasp of horror. Alexander had his hands wrapped around Rosa's throat. There was blood dripping from her nose as she struggled to break loose of his grip.

"Edmund!" I hissed, my voice cracking. "Do something!"

Edmund's eyes were wide as he watched the couple violently struggle.

"Now!" I said.

He hesitated for the slightest of moments and then he stepped into the room, clearing his throat loudly. Alexander quickly let go of his wife and she fell to the ground. I rushed to her side, gently helping her up and leading her over to the nearest chair.

"Alexander," Edmund said, his voice shaking a bit, "you promised you'd show me that portrait. I'd like to see it now if that's possible."

Alexander smiled and smoothed down his hair. "Yes, of course," he said, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "Right this way."

I watched as the two men left the room. Then I turned back to Rosa. She was already standing up and brushing herself off.

"Shouldn't you lie down for a while?" I asked.

"I'm fine," she said, walking over to a mirror that hung on the wall, where she proceeded to fix her hair.

"Er, okay," I murmured, my concern only increasing. How could she be this calm after what happened? How often did that awful man treat her this way?

She examined her reflection, gingerly touching the skin right below her eye. "Well," she sighed, turning back to me, "that's going to turn into a black eye." She walked back over to the chair and sat down. "I'm so awful at trying to hide bruises. I've tried everything, but I swear it only makes them stand out more." She looked at me. "Do you have any suggestions? What do you usually do?"

"I don't really… I don't have much experience with trying to cover up bruises," I stammered. "Edmund doesn't… he's never…"

"He's never hit you," she finished for me.

"No," I said. "Never."

She smiled sadly. "I should have known," she said. "He's a good man."

"Well," I replied, "I had a feeling you thought pretty highly of him, considering what I saw on my birthday."

Rosa's mouth fell open. "You saw that?" she whispered, having the decency, at least, to look sorry.

I nodded. "Unfortunately."

"Ella," she said, "I'm truly sorry. He told me all these things. He said that you two had discussed it, that you were fine with him having affairs, that both of you wanted an open marriage."

I laughed, a dry, humorless laugh. "Well, that's news to me. I must have been asleep when we had that discussion."

"I wouldn't have gone near him," she said, "if I had known he was lying."

I shrugged. "It's in the past now. Don't worry about it. Besides, Edmund may have his faults, but he could be a lot worse."

Rosa ducked her head. "Yes," she muttered bitterly. "That's very true."

The next morning when I woke up, I found myself wrapped in Edmund's arms, my head resting on his chest. I gazed up at him, wishing that I was enough for him. Because moments like these made me so happy. _He_ made me so happy. Sometimes. And I wished, I desperately wished, that we could _always _make each other happy.

He smiled at me. "Good morning," he murmured sleepily.

"Good morning," I replied, smiling back.

"Can you believe we have to spend five more days in this place?" he asked.

I sighed. "Maybe we can make up some excuse and get out of here."

He grinned wickedly. "Yes," he agreed. "Let's do that."

* * *

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	9. Chapter 8

I went to work on Wednesday that week like I normally would, even though I knew Henry wouldn't be expecting me. After all, I was still supposed to be with Edmund, out of the country, visiting Rosa and Alexander. I walked inside and looked around. There were a few customers, but neither Henry nor Lydia was anywhere in sight. I leaned up against the counter and waited for one of them to show up. Soon I began to hear voices drift in from the back storage room. One voice I immediately recognized as being Henry's, but the other (also a male) sounded unfamiliar.

"Honestly, I don't know why I hired her," Henry said.

I froze, setting down the pen that I had been fiddling with. He was talking about me.

"Why's that?" the other voice asked.

"She's completely incapable of doing her job," he replied.

_Incapable of doing my job?_

"She's ridiculously clumsy," he continued. "So much that it hinders her ability to do her job well. Just last week she nearly took down an entire shelf of books when she tripped over her own feet."

I hated how clumsy I became around him. All he had to do was ask somebody else—anybody else—and they'd be able to tell him. I was perfectly capable of not tripping and stuttering and making mistake after mistake around anyone else but him. He just made me so nervous!

"She is utterly useless," Henry finished.

_Useless._

I don't know exactly what happened, but there was something about that word that triggered something inside me. One word. Two syllables. And somehow it was so much more. It was like a punch in the gut. A painful reminder of so many things I never wanted to be reminded of.

Suddenly I felt like I was ten years old again, my stepmother screaming at me. I'd broken a vase while cleaning. Its pieces lay shattered at my feet. "You stupid, useless girl!" she seethed. "Can't you do anything right?"

_Stupid._

_Useless._

_Can't do anything right._

Then just as suddenly, I was no longer ten but fifteen. Drizella had met a boy in town. His name was Jack. Jack was smart and nice and handsome, but for some reason had still decided to take Drizella out. That meant, of course, that I had to help her get ready. But in the middle of frantically trying to iron her dress in time for her date _and_ make dinner for my stepmother and Anastasia, I spilled some sort of sauce all over her dress. "How could you be so stupid, Cinderella!" she had shrieked. "You're so useless, I swear! Will you ever be able to do anything right?"

_Stupid._

_Useless._

_Can't do anything right._

And then it was like it was last year again. And Anastasia's goldfish was laying dead at the bottom its bowl. I had forgotten to feed it. "Cinderella!" she screamed. "You're so stupid! You killed my fish! Why can't you do anything right? Why are you so useless?"

_Stupid._

_Useless._

_Can't do anything right._

You hear something enough and you start to believe it. Even if common sense tells you it isn't true. It gnaws at your thoughts. It keeps you awake at night. It consumes you, engulfs you, eats away at you until you _know_ what everyone is telling you is true.

Maybe I was stupid and useless. Maybe I really couldn't do anything right. After all, everyone said it. Everyone believed it.

I was the girl who once burned the Christmas ham that one year when an important ambassador and his wife were dining at our house.

I was the girl who let the cat wander away when I was supposed to be watching it.

I was the girl who foolishly thought that she could go to the ball if she finished her chores.

I was the girl who couldn't even keep her husband from straying.

And now even Henry Toulson, the boy who had once been everything to me, had called me useless.

That's when the tears came. Followed by the loud sobbing. I hadn't cried since that night I discovered that Edmund was being unfaithful. I had suppressed all my feelings. I had tried to pretend that everything was fine. Perhaps if I simply ignored the problem, it would go away. If I pretended that Edmund wasn't cheating on me, perhaps he would stop. Perhaps everything could be solved with a simple smile and a naïve attitude. But now, right there in that shop, I finally let myself feel again. I let the pain and hurt and sadness wash over me. Not just the past month's worth of pain, but an entire ten years of it. An entire ten years and loneliness and emotional and verbal abuse at the hands of three women who were supposed to be my family. I let myself feel in a way that I hadn't let myself feel in maybe forever.

The few customers in the store glanced up at me, bemused expressions on their faces. I could practically hear their thoughts.

_Who was this girl crying in the middle of a bookstore?_

_She kind of looks like the princess. No, that can't be right._

_Why is she crying anyway? Why here?_

They all stared at me for a moment, and then ducked their heads and went back to flipping through whatever book they had picked up off one of the shelves. They were all going to ignore me, pretend they didn't even notice the crying girl at the counter. They were going to awkwardly continue to browse until I stopped.

Over the sound of my own sobs, I heard Henry's voice again.

"What is that?" he asked. "Is someone crying?"

"It sounds like a girl," his companion replied.

The curtain that separated the storage room from the rest of the room was pushed back. Through my tears I could see Henry's blurry figure standing in the doorway, staring at me. Behind him stood another man who looked about the same age. An old school friend, perhaps. I waited for him to yell at me, to demand that I stop crying this instant, to accuse me of disturbing the customers, to tell me that I was unprofessional. _And stupid and useless and unable to do anything right._

"Why are you crying?" he asked instead, his green eyes filled with concern as he came out from behind the counter.

He reached out for me, but I shook my head, backing away until I came into contact with a wall. I slid down into a sitting position, and buried my face in my hands, continuing to cry even louder.

"I'm going to go," I heard the other man say. "I'll see you around, Henry."

"Yeah, see you," Henry replied.

I heard footsteps coming closer; I felt something brush up against me. I lifted my head. Henry was sitting beside me, his face so close that I could count the freckles on his nose.

"Ella," he whispered, his breath warm on my face, "tell me what's wrong."

Ella. He'd called me Ella. It was the first time he'd called me that since I had first walked into his store, since I had first walked back into his life. Until this moment, he'd always called me "Your Highness," in a tone that suggested he was mocking me, mocking the entire system really. But suddenly I was Ella again.

"You called me useless," I managed to choke out through my tears. "You called me useless, Henry!"

There was no way I was going to continue to call him Mr. Toulson. Not after what I had heard. I had lost all respect for him. I didn't care if he was my employer. I was going to call him whatever I damn well pleased.

"You weren't supposed to have heard that," he said. "I thought you wouldn't be back until next week."

"Edmund and I came back early," I replied, taking a few deep breaths as I attempted to stop crying.

"Oh," was his only reply. He ducked his head, looking ashamed.

I glanced around the shop. The three customers were all staring at us. When they saw me watching them, they all quickly looked away. I turned my attention back to Henry.

"And it's true," I muttered.

His head shot back up. "What's true?" he asked.

"I am useless!" I replied, my voice gradually growing louder. "Stupid and useless and unable to do anything right!"

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head back and forth rather adamantly. "Ella, that's not true at all."

I stared down at the floor. "You're the one that said it."

"Ella," he said. "Ella, look at me."

I didn't look up.

"Ella," he said again. "Please, look at me."

There was something about his voice, something that reminded me of the old Henry. Yes, his voice had obviously deepened over the years. The man talking to me now was not the little boy I had once sat for hours with, deep in conversation. But there was something soft, something gentle, about the way he was talking to me now. Something that I used to hear in his voice, something that I hadn't heard from him in a long, long time.

I lifted my head.

His eyes looked so sad. And I think, maybe, in that moment, my heart broke just a little. Because he used to mean everything to me and there was a part of me that still couldn't stand to see him upset.

"When I said that," he said, "I was just annoyed and ranting to a friend. But you have to believe me when I say that I was only talking about this particular job. I mean, at least from what I've seen, it's not your strong suit. But Ella, I swear, that's all I meant. You are _not_ useless. Or stupid. Or whatever the hell else it was you said. You are smart and caring and loyal and beautiful, do you understand? And so what if you're a bit clumsy and not that great at sorting books? That's hardly something that's going to hold you back in life. Ella, you kept your stepmother's household running for her for ten years. You're obviously perfectly capable of taking of yourself. And doing a damn good job of it, might I add. If I had been thinking clearly at all, and I obviously wasn't, then I never would have called you useless. It is the complete opposite of what you are. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you."

"But is sometimes feels so true," I murmured. "Sometimes I really do feel so utterly useless."

"You have to stop thinking like that."

I wiped my eyes on the sleeve of my dress. Wordlessly, Henry handed me his handkerchief.

"Thanks," I muttered, taking it from him and blowing my nose.

I glanced around the store. Somehow, without me even noticing, all the customers had slipped out. It was just the two of us, alone.

"He cheats on me," I whispered, staring straight ahead, unable to look at Henry as I told him something that I had never told anyone (except Rosa, but she already knew).

"Your husband cheats on you?" he asked, the disbelief in his voice evident.

I nodded. "With the maid on our honeymoon. With Princess Rosa on my birthday. And with God knows who else."

"He cheated on you on your _honeymoon_?"

Finally I turned to look at him. His eyes were wide as he stared back at me. "Ella, that's horrible. I'm so sorry."

"It's my fault," I said softly.

"What?" he asked. "How the hell is it your fault?"

"I'm his wife. It's my job to keep him happy, to keep him satisfied. If he's straying, then it must be my fault."

"That," Henry said, "is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. If this idiot is unable to recognize the fact that he is one of the luckiest men on the planet to have you as a wife, then he is too stupid to even exist."

Tears began to well up in my eyes. "Henry," I whispered.

"What?"

"Thank you," I said simply, resting my head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me against him. "You're going to be okay, Ella."

I closed my eyes and breathed him in. In that moment, it was honestly like we were nine years old again. We were best friends and our entire lives were ahead of us and we loved each other and that was enough. We had no idea what the future held for us. We had no idea that life could be so cruel, so heartbreaking. Anything and everything was possible and we would always have each other.

So I lay there with him and for that brief moment in time, I pretended that nothing had changed. I didn't ask him why he had treated me the way he had since I had showed up at his shop a month ago. I didn't know if things would change between us. Maybe when I came back to work on Friday, the scowls and annoyed sighs would be back. I had no idea. But, for now, I pretended it didn't matter.

And I let him hold me.

* * *

**This chapter is kind of short, but I hope you guys liked it anyway!**


	10. Chapter 9

"I think that you and I should go to the theater tomorrow night," Edmund announced the following week at dinner. "How does that sound?"

"Lovely," I murmured, picking up my glass and taking a sip of wine. "It sounds lovely."

"Good," he said, smiling. "I'm glad you think so. I can't even remember the last time the two of us actually went out together. We never get enough time alone anymore."

Across the table, the king grinned widely, looking back and forth between the two of us. He was having a good day, one of the few he'd had in the past month. I had a feeling that was part of the reason Edmund was in such a good mood.

"You two are so sweet together," the king said. "Reminds me of how the queen and I were when we first married. So young, so in love." He smiled wistfully, gazing off into space. I had a feeling that he was no longer present with us in the dining room, but somewhere very different indeed, somewhere long in the past. After a minute or two, he seemed to snap back into the present. "So when will you two lovebirds be giving me a grandchild?" he asked.

Edmund and I glanced at each other. "I don't know, Father," Edmund said. "Whenever God wills it, I suppose."

"Well I hope God hurries up and wills it soon," the king said. "I'm not going to be around forever, you know."

Edmund pressed his lips together in tight smile. "Yes, I'm well aware of that, Father. Only I wish you wouldn't talk about it so –"

"Talk about what?" the king interrupted. "The fact that I'm dying?"

Edmund cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Come now, Edmund," his father continued. "I know I'm dying. You know I'm dying. Even little miss Ella here knows I'm dying. What's the point of ignoring it? You think that not talking about it will make it go away?"

Edmund stared down at his plate, not saying anything. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

The king sighed and shook his head, redirecting his gaze to me. "Ella," he said softly, "you won't let me die without meeting my first grandchild, will you? Promise me that you won't."

I froze. What was one supposed to say to a question like that? How could I promise such a thing? I didn't know how much time he had left on this earth. And I certainly didn't know when I would be having my first baby.

Edmund's head shot back up. "Father!" he exclaimed. "She can't promise anything of the sort! How dare you ask her to."

"I simply don't understand what the two of you are waiting for," he said. "You've been married how long now?"

"Only about three months," Edmund replied. "Hardly a long time. Certainly not long enough to be accused of waiting too long to have children."

"Well, considering my health," the king said, "you'd think that it would at least be something the two you would consider."

Edmund let out an exasperated sigh. "We have thought about it, Father. In fact, we'd be open to having a baby at any time. It just hasn't happened yet."

The king sharply turned to look at me. "Why?" he asked. "Is there something wrong with you? Is something not working as it should?"

"Okay, that's enough," Edmund said, standing up. "This conversation is over. Goodnight, Father. Ella and I are going upstairs now."

"To make a baby, I hope," the king called after us as we exited the room.

Once we reached the door to my room, Edmund gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "Goodnight, Ella," he said, turning to leave. "Sweet dreams."

"Edmund, wait," I said, stopping him in his tracks. "Don't you want to stay with me tonight?"

He turned, a sad smile on his face. "I don't think so, darling. I'm not really in the mood. I'd rather be alone tonight."

I nodded slowly, staring down at my feet. "Oh," I said. "Of course. I understand. Goodnight, dear. I'll see you in the morning."

"Don't forget that we're going to the theater tomorrow night," he said suddenly. "That'll be fun. We'll enjoy ourselves tomorrow night, okay?"

I nodded, opening the door to my room. "Okay."

I wandered into my sitting room. My four ladies-in-waiting were all there, sewing quilts and drinking tea. I threw myself down on the divan where Sarah was sitting and sighed heavily.

"What's wrong?" she said, looking up. Her blonde hair stuck out in all directions and there was a small piece of fabric wrapped around her finger where she had stuck herself with a needle and begun to bleed. An overwhelming urge to hug her washed over me. She was such a good friend, such a lovely person. I didn't know what I would do without her and her spazzy behavior. I reached out and wrapped my arms around her.

"Aghh," she squealed. "Ella, I can't breathe!"

I let go. "Sorry," I said. "It's just that I love you."

She giggled, setting down her half-finished quilt. "I love you too, Ella."

I turned to look at Catherine. "Is it okay if I steal Sarah and Anna from you?" I said. "There's something I need to talk to them about."

She peered at me over her eyeglasses, giving me a look that reminded me a lot of the one that my mother used to give me when I did something that deserved a scolding.

"Well, I suppose these quilts can wait," she said. "They are only for the poor, after all. There's no rush."

"You're trying to make me feel guilty," I said.

"Is it working?" she asked, smiling at me fondly.

"Maybe a little," I said, standing up. "They can bring the quilts they're working on along with them. How about that?"

"That's not necessary," Catherine said. "You three go talk. They can finish their work later. Elizabeth and I have everything under control for now, don't we dear?"

Elizabeth nodded, not saying anything as usual. I felt a bit bad, leaving her out so often. She was actually the only one of my ladies who was the same age as me –twenty. Sarah was four years younger and Anna was five years older. But she had always been so quiet and the two of us had just never had a chance to grow close. So I merely smiled at her kindly. "Thank you, both of you," I said. "You're angels, really."

Once inside my bedroom, the door tightly closed behind us, Sarah and Anna threw themselves down on my bed and looked up at me expectedly.

"So," Sarah said, her eyes wide and eager, "what did you want to talk about?"

I sat down beside them. "I don't think Edmund finds me desirable anymore."

They both looked at each other, stunned expressions on their faces, and then back at me.

"What do you mean?" Anna asked.

"He hasn't come to bed with me in over a week," I said. "The last time we made love was during our short lived visit with Rosa and Alexander. He hasn't touched me since."

It was no wonder that I hadn't gotten pregnant yet. Edmund and I were spending fewer and fewer nights together as time went on. If the king was ever going to get a grandchild in his lifetime, something needed to change.

"I'm sure that's not your fault," Sarah said. "He probably just has a lot on his mind or something."

Anna shook her head. "I don't know about that," she said. "Men usually only have one thing on their minds."

"Well if that's true then why isn't Edmund coming to her at night?" Sarah asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Hmm? Answer me that, Miss Cynical."

"I think it's because he's with someone else!" I blurted out.

"What?" they asked in unison, turning to look at me.

"He's been cheating on me since the begging," I admitted to them for the first time. "I have no reason to think that's he stopped."

"But…but…" Sarah sputtered. "But he's crazy about you."

I shrugged. "Apparently not."

"Oh, Ella," she said, tears welling up in eyes. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"I'm fine, Sarah," I said. "I've known for a while now and I think that I've come to accept it. There's nothing I can do but try to be the best wife possible and hope that he stops."

"That hardly seems fair," Anna said, her brown eyes filled with disappointment as she gazed at me. "Why should you have to put all the effort into fixing your marriage while he's off sleeping with other women?"

"You don't understand, Anna," I murmured.

"You're damn right, I don't understand!" she replied angrily. "I don't understand why men are all the same. They're all cheating, lying pieces of scum and we all fall for their tricks over and over again! Why is that?"

"I don't think all men are bad," Sarah whispered, nervously chewing on one of her fingernails.

"Well, you wouldn't," Anna snapped. "You've never been in love. All you know about men is what you've read in those stupid novels of yours. But here's something you need to understand, Sarah. Men in novels are nothing like men in real life. In real life, even Prince Charming will let you down."

Sarah lowered her head. "You're right," she whispered. "I don't know anything about men or about romance. But excuse me for not giving into your cynical way of thinking. Just because you had your heart broken by a stable boy and just because Prince Edmund turned out to not be so perfect, doesn't mean that their aren't men out there who are genuinely trustworthy."

Anna rolled her eyes. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Anna," Sarah said quietly, "you don't really think that all men are the same, do you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, maybe."

"Because I really need to believe that they aren't," Sarah continued. "Or else I'm going to go into my marriage already believing that it's doomed from the beginning."

"Your marriage?" I asked. "What do you mean by that, Sarah?"

"She just means whenever she gets married in the future," Anna said. "She's not referring to anything specific."

"Actually, Anna," Sarah said, "that's not true. I happen to be engaged."

Our mouths both fell open. "To who?" I asked.

"To a boy named Theodore," she said. "He's from the town I was born in. I've never met him, but Father believes that the two of us will make a good match."

My forehead wrinkled in confusion. Something wasn't adding up. "Sarah," I said slowly, "if he lives in a different town, does that mean that he will be coming here to live after the two of you are married?"

She shook her head. "No," she said quietly. "No, it doesn't mean that, actually."

Beside me, Anna's eyes widened. "Sarah," she whispered her voice cracking slightly, "you don't mean…"

"I'm leaving," Sarah finished for her. "My father…he says that he's not getting any younger and he wants to spend whatever time he has left back at home. He says he's too old to enjoy court life anymore and wants to die in the same place he was born. So I'll be going with him and I'll marry Theodore and…" She trailed off, tears beginning to fall down her face. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell the two of you sooner. It's just that you're my best friends. I didn't know how to tell you that I was leaving."

I don't think I had ever seen Anna look so devastated. "You can't leave," she murmured. "Ella, tell her she can't leave."

"I can't tell her that," I said.

"Yes, you can," Anna insisted. "You're the princess. You can order her to stay."

"Anna," I said sternly. "You know I can't."

She fell silent.

Sarah had rolled over onto her stomach, her face burned in one of my pillows. I could hear her muffled sobs as I lay down beside her.

"Sarah," I said, "you're going to be okay. I'm sure this Theodore is a lovely person. You're father loves you very much. He wouldn't arrange for you marry someone unless he was absolutely sure that he could be trusted."

"It's true," Anna agreed. "I'm sure Theodore will prove to be the exception to the "all men are scum rule."

Sarah lifted her head and looked at Anna with bloodshot eyes. "You think?"

"I _know_," she said, hopping off the bed and placing her hands on her hips. "Now, we better get Ella ready for bed."

Sarah sat up, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Yes," she said. "Yes, of course."

I smiled at them. "You two are my best friends. No matter what, just remember that, okay?"

* * *

The next night, I peered out of the carriage window excitedly as we pulled up to the theater. It was a beautiful old building that looked even more amazing at night, all lit up and bustling with life. People strolled by dresses in their evening finery, the men in tuxedos and the women in long gowns, draped in jewels.

The door opened and the footmen helped me out of the carriage. Edmund followed me out, holding out his arm for me to take. All around us, people had stopped to point and whisper. As we made our way to the doors, I made sure to smile graciously at everyone we passed. Just as we were about to step inside, a little girl, probably no more than five years old, came scampering over. I smiled down at her and she lowered herself into a clumsy curtsy, all the while staring up at me in awe.

"Are you the printheth?" she asked, her eyes as wide as saucers.

"Yes, I am," I said, crouching down so that I was closer to her eye level. "I'm Princess Ella. What's your name?"

"Annie," she told me. "My name ith Annie and thomday I'm going to be a printheth too!"

"Oh really?" I asked, my smile growing wider.

She nodded. "And I'll have a tiara ath pretty as that one." She pointed to the top of my head.

I removed the tiara from my head, careful not to mess up the hair that Sarah had spent hours perfecting. "Would you like to try it on?"

She nodded eagerly. I placed it gently on top of her red curls. It was much too big of course and slipped down her forehead. She grinned up at me.

"You look beautiful," I said. "Just like a real princess." I glanced up at Edmund, who was watching the two of us with an amused expression on his face. "Doesn't she, darling?"

"Indeed," he said. "She'll make some prince very happy someday."

A young woman came rushing over, looking frantic. "Annie!" she cried. "Annie what are you doing? I told you not to leave my sight!"

"The printheth was showing me her tiara," Annie said, reaching up and taking it off her head. She handed it back to me. "Thank you," she said, as I took it back and stood up.

The little girl's mother looked horrified. She looked back and forth between Edmund and me, her mouth hanging open. "Oh my goodness!" she said. "I am so, so sorry that my daughter was bothering you, your Highnesses. It won't happen again, I can assure you!" She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

"It's quite alright," I said. "She wasn't bothering us at all. That's quite an adorable little girl you have."

The woman looked relieved. "Thank you so much, Your Highness. It's so kind of you to say so."

Edmund smiled at her, placing his hand in the small of my back. "Come, Ella. We don't want to miss the beginning of the play."

I followed him inside. By the time we had reached our seats, located in the royal box of course, I was lost in thought.

"Ella," Edmund said, as he leaned against the railing and stared out at the crowd of people below us. "What are you thinking about?"

"I want a baby," I murmured. "And I guess I never really realized how much until I was talking to that little girl. That entire time, all I could think was how much I want to be a mother."

Edmund smiled at me as he settled back in his seat. The lights in the theater began to dim and a hush fell over the audience. Everyone's attention was on the curtain as it opened. Everyone's attention, that was, except mine. I was still looking at Edmund.

"We'll talk about this later," he whispered in my ear, his eyes glued to the stage.

"Edmund…"

"Shhh," he murmured. "We'll talk about it tonight in bed, okay?"

It took a moment for his words to sink it, but as soon as they did, a smile spread across my face. "Okay," I whispered back, turning my attention to what was happening on stage.

* * *

It was even chillier than it had been before when Edmund and I stepped outside after the play had ended. I pulled my fur coat tighter around myself and leaned in closer to my husband. Edmund strained his neck, staring up the street at the line of carriages that sat waiting to pick up various theater attendees.

"Do you see our carriage?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "No, I don't, Edmund," I said with a shiver. "Can we wait inside, please?"

He nodded and I quickly turned around, nearly colliding into someone in my hurry to return to somewhere relatively warm.

"Sorry," I said.

"It's quite alright, Your Highness," a male voice replied. "I would expect no less from you."

I looked up. Henry Toulson was staring down at me, a small smirk on his face.

"Henry!" I exclaimed, shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"Mary loves the theater," he said, nodding at his petite fiancée who stood beside him, clinging to his arm. "I've been saving up enough money for months to get us good seats."

"Oh," I said. "How thoughtful of you. Did the two of you enjoy the play?"

"Mary loved it," Henry said, smiling down at her. "I thought it was okay. I just felt like the characters were a bit one dimensional. And the plot seemed a bit contrived, don't you think?"

"I'm going to have to side with Mary on this one," I said. "I thought it was really good. Though, I shouldn't be surprised that you're a theater snob, Henry," I teased.

Beside me, Edmund cleared his throat. "Ella, darling," he said. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?"

"Oh, yes, of course," I said. "Edmund, this is Henry Toulson and his fiancée Mary. Henry owns the bookshop that I work in."

Edmund's eyes narrowed as he looked Edmund up and down. "You're the bookshop owner?" he asked.

Henry nodded. "Yes, Your Highness. I am indeed."

"Hmmm," he murmured. "From what Ella told me about you, I was not picturing someone quite so…young."

Henry's eyebrows shot up. "Ella," he said, "you were describing me as an old man?"

"No," I said. "No, of course not. I suppose I just never said your age."

"Or described him at all really," Edmund added.

"I suppose that means that she failed to mention that we're old childhood friends?" Henry asked.

"Yes," Edmund replied. "Yes, she did fail to mention that."

"I'm sure that's not true," I said. "I must have mentioned it at some point. You probably just weren't listening very closely, darling."

He shrugged. "Perhaps."

"I think I see our carriage," I said, eager to end this conversation. "I'll see you on Monday, Henry. And Mary, it was lovely to see you again." I took Edmund's hand. "Come on, dear. If I don't get inside somewhere very soon, I think I might freeze."

"It was nice to meet you," Edmund called over his shoulder as we made our way over to where our carriage sat waiting for us.

Once we were both comfortably seated inside, I turned to Edmund. "Darling," I said, "I truly wasn't trying to keep anything from you. I hadn't even realized that I never mentioned who Henry was."

"It's fine," Edmund said, staring out the window.

"Are you sure?"

"Ella," he said, turning to look at me. "Can we stop talking about this?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

A small smile crept across his lips. "How about that baby you seem to want so badly?"

I smiled back. "Your father will be thrilled."

"Ella," he murmured, burying his face in my neck. "Let's not talk about my father right now, okay?"

"Okay," I whispered, tilting my head back and moaning slightly. "That definitely won't be a problem."

* * *

**This was kind of a filler chapter, sorry about that. Review anyway?**


	11. Chapter 10

At work, Henry and I had come to a sort of unspoken understanding between the two of us. We didn't talk about the conversation we'd had the day he'd made me cry, but ever since then we had grown more comfortable around each other. We weren't really friends, but he no longer scowled or muttered irritably when I was around and I no longer got the impression that he secretly wanted me to leave and never come back. He was still bossy and arrogant, but when he ordered me around or got exasperated when I made a mistake, there was a lightness in his tone that hadn't been there before and something in his eyes that told me he wasn't really upset. My entire experience working at his shop had become much more pleasant, which was certainly a nice change.

One afternoon, on a Monday in late December, I was helping a customer locate a book when the bell above the door tinkled and a blast of cold air filled the shop. I looked up. Three elderly ladies walked in, pulling off their gloves and brushing the snow off of their coats, looking relieved to be out of the cold and in the presence of the warm, crackling fire in the fireplace. Henry, who was standing at the counter, smiled at them.

"Hello, ladies," he said. "Is there anything I can help you with this morning?"

"Henry, dear," one of the ladies said, approaching the counter and smiling up at him, "how lovely it is to see you again."

"It's lovely to see you again too, Mrs. Nelson," Henry said. "How's your grandson? Has he finished school?"

The woman nodded. "Oh, yes, Jack finished school this past year. He's doing wonderfully. He's going to be a lawyer, you know. Smart, smart boy. Just like his father."

Her two friends nodded their heads in agreement behind her, smiling enthusiastically, as if there was nothing in the world they enjoyed talking about more than the intelligence of Mrs. Nelson's grandson.

Henry nodded. "I'm glad to hear he's doing so well."

I finally found the book I'd been looking for and handed it over to the man who had been looking for it. He smiled at me gratefully and wandered away to continue browsing. I made my way over to the counter where Henry and the three ladies were still chatting to see if he had anything he needed me to do before I left for the day.

"You know, Henry," Mrs. Nelson was saying, "I haven't seen you in church recently. That lovely sister of yours is there every week. And so is your fiancée. But you always seem to be missing on Sunday mornings. Why is that? I know your shop isn't open on the Sabbath."

Henry's eyes darted from side to side. He looked a bit like a child who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Err…" he stammered. "Well, you see…" Suddenly, as if only now noticing my presence at the counter, he grabbed my arm and pulled me in close, his arm snaking around my waist as he hugged me to his side. "Have you ladies met Ella?" he asked, in an obviously desperate attempt to change the subject.

One of the women squinted at me, fumbling around in her purse for a pair of eyeglasses which she promptly put on before continuing to appraise me. "Aren't you the princess?" she finally asked.

I nodded, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment I felt when Henry dropped his arm and took a step away from me.

"That's right," Mrs. Nelson said. "I remember hearing about that. You hired the princess to work in your shop." She tilted her head, looking me up and down. "How strange," she murmured. "How very strange indeed."

"I suppose," I mumbled.

"So why'd you do it?" the third women piped up. "Princesses don't usually have jobs."

They were a nosy bunch, these women. Not that it came as any surprise. In my experience, there were no bigger gossips than elderly, church-going women.

"Well," I said, "I guess I just wanted a reason to get out of the castle every now and then. It can get boring sometimes. It's magnificent, but sometimes a person needs a change of scenery."

"But why here?" Mrs. Nelson asked.

I shrugged. "I suppose it's because I already knew Henry. We were friends when we were growing up. He lived next door to me until we were nine years old."

"I knew Henry when he was a boy too," Mrs. Nelson said. "Of course," she added, "that was when he used to bother to show up to Mass."

Beside me, Henry smiled tightly.

"He was so adorable," she continued, "and always better dressed than most of the grown men there. Of course," she said, eyeing at the elbow patches on his jacket, "that was back when his family had money."

I glanced over at Henry. His tight-lipped smile had become a full-on grimace. If there was one thing that seemed to upset Henry Toulson more than anything else, I think that one thing would have to be the reminder of just how far his family had fallen down the rungs of the social ladder. Son of a nobleman turned common shop owner. It was quite scandalous.

"Once," she went on, "he stood up in the middle of the priest's sermon and loudly corrected him in front of the entire congregation. He must have only been five or six then."

"Oh god," Henry muttered, shaking his head.

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain, dear," Mrs. Nelson said sharply. "He's always watching. He sees and hears all, you know."

"You know, Mrs. Nelson," he said, "with all due respect, I don't think I believe that."

All three ladies gasped in horror.

"Whatever do you mean, Henry?" Mrs. Nelson asked, her eyes wide.

"I don't believe in God," he replied flatly. "Or in any higher power actually."

One woman let out a gasp, clutching her heart. The other looked up toward the ceiling, muttering what sounded like the Hail Mary under her breath as she did the sign of the cross. Mrs. Nelson just froze, as if the idea that someone might not believe in the divine power of Jesus Christ was too much to even comprehend.

"Well," she said, finally pulling herself together. "I only hope that you are able to seek salvation before it's too late." She squared her shoulders and turned to look at me. "I hope you don't share this man's beliefs, Your Highness. It'll be very sad day for this kingdom when our royal family turns away from the Lord."

"O-oh," I stammered. "No…no…The prince and I always attend Mass. Every Sunday there's a service in the castle's chapel."

"I'm glad to hear it," she said. "Have a good afternoon, you two."

And with that, the three women turned and left, the door slamming shut behind them.

"Well," I said after a moment. "I think you probably just lost three customers. Just hope they don't convince everyone else in their church's congregation to never come in here again."

"Do you think I'm a heathen who's going to burn in hell for all of eternity, Ella?" he asked, turning to look at me, his green eyes twinkling.

"Of course," I responded. "But I've always thought that."

He chuckled. "Those women looked ready to skin me alive."

"I'd sleep with one eye open tonight," I said, only half kidding.

"Yeah," he murmured, his eyes locking with mine. For a moment we just stood there, looking at each other. He was really so beautiful, I realized. The way his sandy blonde hair around his ears. The way his gaze was so intent, so thoughtful, as if he could see straight into my soul. The way his jaw clenched in concentration, as if he was studying me just as keenly as I was studying him.

Someone cleared his throat. The two of us quickly looked away from each other, as if we had just been caught doing something we shouldn't have been. I felt my face heating up as I looked up to see the man I had been helping earlier was standing in front of the counter, clutching a pile of books.

"If you two lovebirds could spare of minute," he said, "I'd like to purchase these books. You can go back to staring lovingly into each other's eyes as soon as I'm gone."

I snorted loudly. "We are _not_ lovebirds! I'm afraid you're mistaken, sir."

"Quite mistaken," Henry agreed.

"We don't even like each other that much," I added. "He's a bit of a jerk really. You know he once called me useless. Tell me, what kind of a man says something like that to a girl? Not a very respectable one, I should say."

"I have a fiancée," Henry said. "Ella and I are just…" He paused, clearly unsure about what exactly the two of us were to each other. "She's just Ella," he finished.

"And I have a husband," I said. "Who's clearly better looking_ and_ a nicer person than Henry here."

This time it was Henry who snorted. "Oh, yeah, your husband's a really nice man. Really knows how to treat a woman, he does."

I glared at him.

He glared back.

The man just stared at us. "Okay," he said after a moment. "There's clearly some tension between the two of you that needs to be worked out. Good luck with that." He threw some money down on the counter. "Keep the change."

After he had left, I turned to Henry. Our eyes met and we burst out laughing.

"What the hell was that?" he gasped, as he tried to catch his breath.

"I don't know!" I replied. "But I think that's another customer that'll probably never come back!"

"Four less than an hour," he said. "Probably a record!"

I leaned up against the counter, clutching my side. "This is nice," I said, after I had managed to collect myself .

"What is?" he asked. "Scaring away customers?"

"No," I replied. "Us getting along."

"Oh," he said. "Yeah. It is."

For a moment I was tempted to ask him why he had been so mean to me, why he had treated me that way he had for months and months. But then I decided against it. There was no need to ruin the moment. We were finally getting along. Maybe we could even become friends again. I doubted things could ever return to the way they had been. We were two different people now. Adults who had lived separate lives for quite some time. Only a fool would believe you could repeat the past and I liked to believe that I was no fool. But even if we could never be as close as we had once been, I was glad to have Henry Toulson in my life again.

"I have to go," I said. "One of my ladies-in-waiting is moving away. I have to say goodbye to her."

"Duty calls," he said, nodding.

"It's not really a duty," I replied. "She's one of my best friends. I'm saying goodbye because I'm going to miss her terribly."

"Well," he said, "that I can understand. It's always difficult to say goodbye to a best friend."

"Yes, it is," I agreed. "But if a person is truly meant to be in your life, then eventually you'll find your way back to them." I paused. "At least that's what I think."

He cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair. "We won't be seeing each other until after Christmas, so I'll guess I should wish you a merry Christmas now." He smiled. "Merry Christmas, Ella."

"Merry Christmas, Henry," I said. "And Happy New Year."

"That's right," he said. "You won't be back until January. I forgot."

It might have been my imagination, but I thought I saw a flicker of sadness on his face when he said that. But just as fast as it had appeared it was gone and I figured that I was probably just seeing things.

As I was about to open the door, I paused and turned back around. "You know," I said, "I really do believe that's there's something out there, some power that's bigger than all of us. In fact, I'm absolutely certain."

"How can you be certain?" he asked.

"Because," I replied, "I have a fairy godmother."

And with that, I pulled open the door and stepped into the cold December air, leaving behind a very stunned, very confused Henry Toulson.

* * *

"I have good news, Ella," Edmund told me at dinner that night.

"What?" I asked eagerly, my mouth full of food. "What's the news?" Little of bits of chewed chicken went flying out of my mouth as I leaned forward in anticipation. I was in desperate need of some good news right about then. When Anna and I had said our goodbyes to Sarah only a few hours earlier and watched as she got into that carriage and rode away to greet her future, I had felt an overwhelming heaviness in my heart. I would miss her. I would miss her wide-eyed innocence and her unbridled enthusiasm. I would miss the way she would pour through romance novel after romance novel and excitedly describe their dull plots as if every one of them was the next Romeo and Juliet. I would miss sitting on my stool, daydreaming or gossiping, as she brushed my hair. I hoped that wherever life took her, she never lost the optimism and faith that made me love her. I hoped that Theodore treated her well. I hoped that he didn't kill her spirit, but loved her in a way that her spirit was able to grow, to flourish into an even more beautiful human being than she already was. I wished her every happiness in the world.

Edmund's face twisted up in disgust, bringing me back to the present. "Ella," he said, "how many times do I have to remind you? You are a lady. And most importantly, you are a princess. So do try and behave like one, my dear. What if we had guests right now and you behaved like that? What then?"

"We don't have guests," I said, gesturing at the nearly empty table. "The only other people in here are servants. And I don't think they're going to say anything."

"Yes, I am well aware that we don't have guests," he said, sounding exasperated. "But we could, Ella. And if you continue to let these bad habits slip through when it's just the two of us, it's bound to happen when we have guests eventually."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry," I said. "Now can we get back to the good news?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "I almost forgot." He paused, a sly smile spreading across his face. "You know how you despise the cold?"

"Yes," I said slowly, wondering where he was going with this.

"Well," he said, "I have decided that we're going to be spending Christmas somewhere much warmer."

My eyes widened. "Where?" I asked excitedly.

"Our family owns a castle on a small island in the Mediterranean," he said. "The weather won't be hot, but it should feel like spring at the very least."

"Edmund!" I exclaimed, grinning widely. "That's so wonderful!"

"The court will be accompanying us," he said. "So you can bring all your ladies-in-waiting."

I stood up and practically skipped to his side, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him on the forehead. "You're the best," I whispered in his ear.

"I know I am," he murmured.

I giggled, playfully smacking his arm. "Humble too, might I add."

"I'm a prince," he said, lounging back lazily in his chair and pulling me into his lap. "I'm not supposed to be humble."

I just smiled, shaking my head.

"I love you," he said, pressing his forehead against mine and kissing my nose.

It wasn't until I heard the words come out of his mouth that I realized I couldn't even remember the last time I had heard him say them. I opened my mouth to tell him that I loved him back, but the words got stuck in my throat and the image of him kissing Rosa on my birthday flashed through my mind. So I leaned forward, capturing his lips in mine and kissing him with as much fervor as I could muster, hoping that he wouldn't notice my inability to proclaim my love for him.

He groaned slightly, his hand cupping my cheek as he kissed me back. I pressed myself closer to him, sucking on his bottom lip as his hand moved to the back of my neck, his fingers snaking through my hair. I wondered what he was thinking about, as we sat there in the dining room, kissing in front of the servants, our food growing cold on our plates. Was I the only one on his mind? Or was he thinking about the others?

I pulled away, breathing heavily. "We should go upstairs."

He nodded, his brown eyes filled with lust as he gazed at me. "Upstairs sounds good."

* * *

Two days later, the day before the entire court and most of the servants packed up and left for an island in the Mediterranean, Sarah's replacement arrived.

Her name was Jane and she was the granddaughter of some important member of the government, an advisor to the king. She had spent most of her years living in a small castle out in the country with her parents, but her father had decided that because she was now sixteen, it would be a good idea for her to become accustomed to life at court. She looked a bit like Sarah, which had been a little disconcerting at first. She had the same blonde hair and round face. But there was something about her, something in her eyes perhaps or in the way she carried herself, that made her different. She seemed older than Sarah somehow (though she was actually the same age), more experienced and perhaps less inclined to see the best in everyone.

I greeted her graciously upon her arrival and she was polite enough. But as the day went on, I found myself more and more inclined to think that there was something about her that I did not like. I wasn't even sure what it was. She hadn't done anything wrong. When I had taken her on a tour of the castle, she had listened intently and asked questions at the appropriate time. The whole place was in an uproar due to tomorrow's trip. Everywhere we went, servants were flitting about, muttering to themselves as they slipped in and out of rooms, carrying mops and feather dusters and pails of water, followed closely by higher-ranking servants who carried clipboards and barked orders loudly. However, despite the chaos, Jane handled everything with the grace of a lady, staying out of everyone's way and causing no trouble. And yet I just couldn't shake the feeling. There was just something about her.

Later that evening, I confided this thought to Anna. "Why do you think that is?" I asked.

She set aside the scarf she was knitting and folded her arms across her chest. "You really want to know what I think?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Okay," she said, leaning forward a bit in her seat, "I think that the problem is that you want her to be Sarah. But the thing is, she's not. Anyone could see it. She's different. More aware of herself, of her surroundings. She's not your best friend. And she's not here to be your best friend either. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, she has absolutely no interest in being your friend at all."

"Bu that's her job," I protested. "Above all else, a lady-in-waiting his supposed to be offer companionship to the woman she serves."

"Well, of course she's going to be your companion," Anna replied, rolling her eyes. "She'll talk to you and play games with you and brush your hair and do whatever you want. But I doubt she has any interest in developing an actual friendship with you, not like the one you had with Sarah or the one you have with me. No, if the rumor mill is to be believed, she's here for one reason and one reason only."

"And what reason is that?" I asked.

"To find herself a husband of course," Anna replied. "She's from the country. She grew up in the middle of nowhere. There was no one out there, no one except the farmers that leased the land from her father. So she came here, to be in the middle of everything, to live amongst the most respected gentleman in the kingdom,"

We both turned our heads, glancing across the room to where Jane sat by the fire, knitting with Elizabeth and Catherine.

"Yes," Anna said, nodding thoughtfully. "That's the only reason she's here."

* * *

**This is random, but as I was writing this I was thinking about how Cinderella (the Disney version) was my favorite book/movie when I was a kid. My parents told me that I would make them read me the book like every night before I went to bed and I watched the movie all the time. They said that whenever the movie/book got to the part where the stepsisters tore up Cinderella's dress, I would get all excited and start giggling. Apparently that was my favorite part. I don't know what that says about me.**

**What was your favorite fairytale or Disney movie when you were growing up? Let me know in your review. Also, please continueto leave your predictions for upcoming chapters. I like reading what you guys think is going to happen.**


	12. Chapter 11

I stepped off of the boat, shielding my eyes from the sun as I gazed up at the castle that sat upon the highest point of the island. It was made entirely of white stone, except for the blue domes that arched up toward the sky. The rest of the island was crammed with tiny multicolored houses that had been built into the hillside. The air was clean and crisp and salty, with a hint of fish wafting off of the ships that were docked there. As I stood there, taking everything in, a cool breeze blew over us and my shawl fluttered up, flapping in the wind.

"Careful," Edmund said, as he approached me from behind. He reached over my shoulder, tying the ends of the shawl into a knot to ensure that it would stay in place. "It's not quite warm enough to lose this."

"I have others in my trunk," I said, turning to smile at him.

"Yes," he said, taking my hand in his. "But I know this one is your favorite."

I nodded, surprised that he knew that. "Yes, it is," I said. "Blue's my favorite color."

We began the walk up to the castle, using the crumbling steps that weaved up through the village. We passed women out hanging up laundry on their clotheslines, pulling clothespins out of the pockets of their aprons as they chatted with their neighbors. Children with skin that had been browned from the sun waved at us excitedly as they chased each other up and down the island's pathways and climbed up onto its walls, shouting things at us in a language I didn't know. Men hawked their wares in the streets. Dogs barked and children laughed and women sang softly to themselves. The island was filled with people and noise and color. The whole place simply seemed _alive_, not just the people, but the buildings that were bursting with color and the trees that swayed in the wind and waves that crashed against the shore and the clouds that drifted lazily in the sky. I'd never seen anything more beautiful or more mesmerizing in my life.

"Edmund," I said, as we reached the doors of the castle. "I want to live here. It's magical."

"Yes," he murmured, glancing over his shoulder as a servant opened the door for us. "This place can have that effect on you."

* * *

Although it felt more like spring there on the island, it was actually Christmas Eve. Everyone decided that since the next day we would be having a traditional Christmas feast indoors, today we should have a picnic on the beach.

So later that evening, Edmund and I, along with my ladies-in-waiting and the rest our court tramped back down the steps, followed closely by a groups of servants carrying blankets and baskets of food and tables and chairs for the older courtiers who were unable to sit on the ground.

"I wish Father could be here," Edmund said, as we drew closer to the bottom. "He loves the beach."

The king's health was getting worse by the day. He spent most of his time in bed now and hardly ever came downstairs to eat his meals with Edmund and me.

"I remember the first time he brought me here," Edmund said, as we stood waiting for the servants to set up. "I was probably about five. Mother didn't come with us. She was terribly afraid of the water and desperately didn't want me to come here. She was so sure that I was going to drown in the ocean and never make it back to her. She was so relieved when I came home alive." He laughed, gazing out at the ocean. "Of course," he added, "she was the one who ended up dying and leaving me, less than a year later."

I squeezed his hand sympathetically, all too familiar with what it felt like to lose a parent at such a young age.

"Hey!" James shouted from where he lay lounging on one of the blankets. "Are you two going to come eat or what?"

James was Edmund's second cousin. He was eighteen years old, much too handsome and clever for his own good, and very much aware of this fact. Ask anyone to describe him and they'd all same the same thing. He was a flirt. A rogue. A scoundrel. With his bright blue eyes, messy chestnut-colored hair, and lazy grin, he could charm his way into the heart of any girl he pleased and then break that heart just as easily. He had been born into an exceptionally privileged, wealthy lifestyle and he had the easy-going, laid back nature of someone who had never wanted for anything a day in his life.

James had been spoiled rotten all his life, but unlike many others with similar childhoods, he lacked a lot of the arrogance and selfishness that most of them possessed. Even Edmund, who was known for being relatively kind and generous compared to other princes, was a product of his upbringing. I had noticed many times, little things he did that made it evident just how privileged his life had been. The way he sometimes forgot to say please and thank you. The way he seemed to look right through many of the servants, almost as if they were not even there. The way he expected things to be done his way, no matter what, and always seemed a bit shocked that someone would disagree with him. It wasn't really Edmund's fault. It was how he had been raised. Even Henry, who had been poor since he was nine years old, was sometimes the same way. He had spent most of his life without much money, working to support his family after his father left, but most of his formative years had been spent in relative luxury and wealth, and he had retained a bit of arrogance because of that. Perhaps I would have been the same way, having been quite spoiled as a little girl by my parents, had I not had all sense of entitlement knocked out of me after years of being treated as a slave by my stepmother and stepsisters.

But somehow, James was different. He was a flirt and a heartbreaker, no doubt about it. But he could be exceptionally kind-hearted as well. I'd seen him smile at the scullery maids as they cleaned the fireplaces, as if he didn't notice their ragged clothes and dirty faces and overall stench, when everyone else in the room seemed to act as if they did not exist. I'd never seen him pass up a beggar on the street without offering him or her a piece of bread or some spare change. He had once spent hours comforting one of the gardeners, an elderly man who mostly kept to himself, after his only son had passed away. He smiled at everyone, waved at strangers, and always took time to thank the servants. He wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but I quite liked him.

Edmund and I made our way over to where the blankets and tables had been set up. I sat down beside Anna, who had her nose in a book while she absentmindedly nibbled on her food.

"Good book?" I asked.

She glanced up. "Yeah, it's about ancient Egypt. Right now I'm reading the chapter about how the pyramids were built. It's pretty interesting."

"Yeah, it sounds _really_ interesting," James said sarcastically, from where he was lounging on the other side of the blanket, his head in the lap of one of Seymour twins. I was pretty sure it was Alice, but I could never quite tell the difference between her and her sister Amy. They were both pretty girls, distant cousins of Edmund's on his mother's side (and thus not related to James).

Anna shot him a dirty look, but he just grinned back, looking unperturbed. "Aw, come on, Anna. I didn't mean it. I'm sure it _is_ interesting."

"He's such an ass," Anna murmured, staring down at her book.

"That's not true," I replied. "You know he isn't. He's a sweetheart. Completely harmless."

"He can be nice," she admitted, flipping the page. "But I wouldn't say he's harmless. He goes through girls too fast. He's a heartbreaker."

James, who was being fed bits of food by Alice (or Amy), lifted his head and looked at us. "Are you two talking about me?"

"Yes," I said, grinning at him.

He sat up, clutching his heart. "Don't tell me you're saying anything too horrible? My heart wouldn't be able to take it!" he exclaimed dramatically.

Anna rolled her eyes.

"You broke my heart when you married Edmund instead of me," he teased me, his eyes twinkling. "Please don't hurt me anymore."

"Oy, James," Edmund said, faking indignation. "Stop flirting with my wife."

"Sorry, Ed," James said. "Just can't help myself. She's too beautiful. If she were mine, I'd be hopelessly devoted. Wouldn't even look at another girl."

Edmund's eye narrowed at that statement, just a little. I glanced back over at James; his expression had grown just the slightest bit more serious. He tilted his head a bit, cocking his eyebrow as he continued to stare at Edmund, almost as if he was daring him to say something. Suddenly it hit me. James knew. He knew that Edmund was being unfaithful. How could he not? Anyone who spent that much time around the castle and around Edmund would have to know, or at the very least have suspicions. For the first time, I wondered just how many people were aware of Edmund's indiscretions. How many courtiers had witnessed something? How many servants? Oh my god, the servants. There was no way that at least one of the servants, if not more, hadn't seen something. And if one servant knew, then they all probably knew. They all probably knew that Prince Edmund was cheating on Princess Ella. They probably all felt sorry for me. The poor, naïve princess. Too silly, too stupid to be aware that her husband didn't respect her enough to stay faithful. Of course, what nobody knew was that I was very much aware. And maybe that was worse. After all, it was one thing to stay with a man when you didn't know he was cheating. It was quite another to stay with a man when you did know, to smile and pretend that everything was fine. What did that say about me?

I sighed, picking at my food. Edmund glanced over at me. "Are you not hungry, darling?"

I shrugged. "Not really."

"Well, try to eat something," he said. "I don't want you to starve to death."

One of the footmen came around, carrying a bottle of wine. "More wine, Your Highness?"

Edmund handed him his glass without a word, still looking at me. "Come on, Ella," he said, picking up a biscuit and slathering some butter on it. "At least eat this."

"More wine, sir?" the footman asked James.

"Yes, thank you," James replied, smiling politely as he handed the servant his glass.

I took the biscuit from Edmund. "Fine," I sighed, feeling a bit sick to my stomach. I couldn't believe that it had never occurred to me how many people around the castle were probably aware of the situation. How many of them had sent pitying looks in my direction without me even noticing? How many of them whispered to each other as I passed by?

My thoughts were interrupted once again by James, who had redirected his attention to Jane, who was sitting on a blanket a few feet away with Elizabeth and Catherine, my other ladies-in-waiting.

"Hey, new girl," he said.

Jane turned, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Yes?" she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

Anna and I exchanged a look, rolling our eyes.

"If you ever have a question about anything," he said, "or need help finding something in the castle or just want someone to talk to, please to not hesitate to ask me." He flashed her a charming smile, his teeth so white they practically sparkled. "I'm a very helpful person."

She smiled back. "Thank you," she said. "That's very kind of you."

Alice (or was it Amy?) suddenly grabbed James hand, shooting a dirty look in Jane's direction. "James," she said. "Let's go for a walk, okay? I want to explore the beach."

"All right," he said with a shrug. "Why not?" He stood up, helping her to her feet. "Did you want to go somewhere specific, Alice?" he asked, looking around.

So she was Alice. I had been right the first time.

I glanced over at Jane. She was watching James carefully; I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. If what Anna had said was true, then I had a feeling she had found exactly who she was looking for. She wanted a husband and James probably seemed like the perfect choice. It was too bad he probably had no interest in settling down with anyone, not for a long, long time anyway. But then again, she probably didn't know that. She's only been around for a few days. She probably didn't know that he had a bit of a reputation as a ladies' man.

After James and Alice had disappeared, I saw her lean over and whisper something in Elizabeth's ear.

"James?" Elizabeth said in reply to whatever Jane had said. "Yes, he's the son of Richard, Duke of Atherton. The Duke is a first cousin of the King's."

"So James will someday inherit his title?" Jane asked eagerly. "He'll be a duke?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes," she replied simply. "He will."

Jane smiled. "How interesting."

Beside me, Anna snorted, shaking her head. "She's a desperate little thing, isn't she? Practically planning their wedding already."

"Yes, but while she's planning their wedding, her groom his off doing God knows what with Alice Seymour," I said. "Perhaps someone should warn him about his upcoming nuptials."

"Let him be surprised," Anna said, standing up and dusting the sand off her dress. "Let's go for a walk," she suggested. "This island is so beautiful."

I stood up as well. "Edmund," I said, turning to my husband who was deep in conversation with one of the king's closest advisors. "I'm going to take a walk with Anna."

"Mmm," he murmured in reply, not looking up.

I glanced at Anna and shrugged. "Let's go."

I tightened my shawl around my shoulders as the two of us started walking. It was getting later and was a bit chillier than before. We walked along the edge of the sea for a bit, the waves lapping at our ankles, soaking the hems of our dresses. After a while, we cut across the beach and into a small wooded area. Up ahead, we could hear voices and some giggling. Squinting, I spotted James and Alice. He had her pinned up against a tree and was whispering something in her ear. Anna and I glanced at each other and then ducked behind a tree, peering around it to spy on them as we tried to suppress our laughter. We watched as James planted a kiss on her cheek and then grabbed her hand, pulling her farther into the woods and out of sight.

Anna and I wandered around the beach for a couple more hours, stopping to talk to an old man who lived alone in a small shack near the water. He was fluent in several different languages because he had spent most of his life sailing around the world as a fisherman. He'd certainly led an interesting life and had many stories to tell. I had a feeling he was a bit lonely and enjoyed having someone to talk to.

Eventually we wandered back to where we had eaten. The servants were packing up and most people had already started back to the castle, but a few stranglers remained, including Edmund.

"There you are," he said as I approached. "I was beginning to worry." He looked around. "Have you seen James?"

"Isn't he with Alice?"

He pointed behind him, where Alice and her sister Amy were deep in conversation. "No, she came back a while ago. She doesn't know where he is."

I shrugged. "Well, I'm sure he's fine. It's not like he won't be able to find his way back to the castle on his own."

"I suppose you're right," Edmund said. "Hey, listen," he added, "I'm going to head back now with Andrew and Harold. They have something they want to discuss with me."

I nodded, watching as he began to long trek up to the castle with a couple of the king's advisors.

"You ready to head up?" Anna asked after a moment.

I nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

Halfway up, we spotted James. He was sitting on a wall, kissing the pretty girl who sat in his lap. She was obviously native to the island, with her long black hair and tanned skin.

I cleared my throat loudly.

He pulled away from the girl and grinned at us. "Ella! Anna! What a pleasant surprise."

"We're all heading back to the castle," I told him. "I think it would be a good idea if you joined us."

He disentangled himself from the girl and hopped off the wall, slinging an arm over each of our shoulder. "All right," he said. "Let's go."

Anna pushed his arm away. He looked a bit hurt. "Come on, Anna, don't be like that. It's just a friendly gesture. Aren't we friends?"

"Speaking of friends," I said, ducking out from under his arm. "You were certainly getting friendly with that girl. Who is she?"

"Talia," he replied, without further explanation.

"Does Alice Seymour know about Talia?" Anna asked.

"Why would Alice care?" he asked, looking confused.

"You were with her only two hours ago!" Anna replied, exasperated. "I mean, I know you move fast, but isn't that a bit much, even for you?"

"Alice and I are friends," he replied, as we continued to climb the stairs. "That's it."

"That's not what it looked like in the woods," I said. "We saw you kiss her."

"On the cheek," he replied. "And what were you two doing spying on us?"

"Never you mind," I said. "This isn't about us. This about you."

"Like I said, Alice and I are friends. She wouldn't even let me kiss her on the lips. She said she doesn't believe in letting a man kiss her until she is betrothed to that man."

"Sounds like a sensible girl," Anna murmured.

"Yes," I agreed. "Very sensible."

Suddenly James stopped in his tracks. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

We shook our heads. "No? What?"

"It sounds like someone crying," he said, looking around.

I listened more carefully. This time I could hear it too. It sounded like a little girl. Sure enough, a minute later, a young girl emerged from the shadows. There was dirt streaked across her face and clothes and tears streaming down her face.

James immediately knelt down, saying something to the girl in a language I didn't recognize. His voice was soft and reassuring and almost immediately the girl stopped crying. Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she mumbled something in reply. He looked up at us. "She says she can't find her mother," he said. "And that she's hungry."

"Poor thing," Anna murmured.

James said something else and the little girl nodded. He scooped her up, cradling her gently against his chest. "I told her that we'll take her back to the castle and get her some food. Then we'll try to figure out where she might live."

As we followed him back to the castle, I turned to Anna. "I told you he's not all bad," I whispered.

"No," she replied thoughtfully. "He's not."

* * *

"Ella," Edmund murmured, shaking me awake the next morning. "Ella, darling, wake up. It's Christmas."

I opened my eyes. He was gazing down at me, a grin on his face.

"Merry Christmas, my love," he said, holding out a small package wrapped in beautiful silver paper. "Open it," he urged.

I sat up and took the gift from him, eagerly removing the paper. Inside was a box, which I promptly opened. A beautiful necklace lay inside, perhaps she most beautiful and most expensive looking necklace I had ever seen. It practically shimmered, just sitting there in the box, the light dancing off of the diamonds.

Edmund took it out. "Turn around," he said.

I turned so that my back was to him, lifting my hair off of my neck.

"There," he said, a moment later.

I turned, gazing at my reflection in the mirror across the room. The necklace looked out of place with my nightgown and messy braid. But it was still beautiful.

"I love it," I whispered.

"And I love you," he replied, kissing my neck.

"I love you too," I said.

It was the first time I had said it in weeks, maybe even months. The saddest part was that I meant it. Even after everything, I still loved him.

* * *

**What do you guys think of James?**


	13. Chapter 12

"Ella," Henry said, looking up as I walked into the shop. "You're back."

"Obviously," I replied. "What, did you think I would leave for the holidays and never return?"

"No, of course not," he said, picking up a basket full of books and coming out from behind the counter. "I was just pointing out the obvious, I suppose." He handed me the basket.

"Let me guess," I said. "I'm supposed to take these to Mrs. Callaghan."

"You got it," he said.

I sighed, glancing out the window. It had snowed the night before and everything was covered in a layer of white. It wasn't deep or anything, but after my relaxing stay on a Mediterranean island, I wasn't exactly looking forward to tromping though the cold to Mrs. Callaghan's house, dragging the hem of my dress through the slush and losing all feeling in my fingers and toes.

"You know what," Henry said suddenly, reaching out and taking the basket back. "I'll take the books to her. You stay here and watch the store, okay? I'll be back soon."

It was like he had read my mind.

"It won't be that soon," I replied, smiling gratefully. "This _is_ Mrs. Callaghan we're talking about."

He chuckled. "Well, I'll be back at some point. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good, boss."

His gaze fell to my necklace. "Christmas gift?" he asked, nodding at it.

"Oh," I said, glancing down. "Yeah, it's from Edmund."

"It looks very –"

"Expensive?" I finished for him.

"I was going to say fancy, but expensive works too," he said, nodding.

Yes, expensive was certainly the right word to describe it. The diamond in the center –larger than any I had ever seen before – was surrounded all the way around by smaller diamonds. Before marrying Edmund, I had never even dreamed of touching something as luxurious as this necklace, let alone actually owning it. Sometimes my new life still seemed like a dream, even if that dream had taken on a few nightmarish qualities in the past few months.

"I wasn't going to wear it today," I said. "Or any day, really. I'm so afraid that it's going to get lost or stolen or something like that. But I didn't want to hurt Edmund's feelings by never wearing it."

"Yes," Henry muttered, clutching the handle of the basket rather tightly. "You wouldn't want to damage the prince's fragile ego."

"Henry," I said quietly. "Don't."

"I just don't see why you're wasting so much time worrying about his feelings," Henry said. "He obviously doesn't give a damn about yours."

"That's not true," I protested. "He does care about me. He loves me."

"Why?" Henry asked. "Because he bought you a shiny necklace? Here's the thing, Your Highness, expensive gifts don't equal love."

"Edmund's going through a tough time right now," I murmured, not quite sure why I was even defending him. "His father's dying."

Henry rolled his eyes. "So?" he asked. "Both of your parents died when you were a child. My mother died a couple years ago and I haven't seen my father since I was nine. Your precious husband's not the only one who's lost a parent. I don't understand how you can use that as an excuse for his lack of respect toward you and your marriage."

"When his father dies, he'll be king," I said. "That's a lot of responsibility. Not everyone has that kind of pressure put on them immediately after losing a parent."

"You know what?" Henry snapped. "I don't want to argue with you about this anymore. If you're okay with how your cheating bastard of a husband treats you, then that's your problem, not mine."

He pulled open the door, a cool blast of air filling the store, and stepped outside. The door slammed shut behind him and I was alone with only my thoughts to keep me company. I couldn't believe that we'd had another fight. We had been getting along so well. What had happened?

I sighed heavily. The door opened again and a middle-aged couple walked in. I smiled at them politely and after they told me that they were just looking around, I went to stand behind the counter.

Ten minutes later, Henry's fiancée Mary walked in. I was sorting through a box of books that someone had generously donated and glanced up for only long enough to see who had walked in before going back to my work.

"Is Henry here?" she asked.

I shook my head. "No, sorry, he isn't. He went to deliver some books to Mrs. Callaghan."

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Probably in about an hour or two," I offered with a shrug.

"An hour or two?" she repeated, a frantic edge to her voice that hadn't been there before. "Isn't that a bit long for a book delivery?

"Mrs. Callaghan is a bit lonely," I said. "She'll talk his ear off, I can assure you."

"Oh," she replied. "Well, can you tell him I stopped by?"

"Of course," I said, glancing up and noticing for the first time just how nervous the poor girl looked. She was wringing her hands together and looking around anxiously. Her strawberry-blonde hair hung down in her face, limp and lifeless, a far cry from her usual bouncy curls. Her face was pale, more pale than usual, and there was no color in her cheeks.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. "Are you feeling ill?"

She shook her head. "No, no, I'm fine. I just really need to talk to him about something important." Her hand moved to her stomach, for only a minute, and then she turned to leave.

"I'll be sure to tell him you were here," I said, as she opened the door and stepped outside.

* * *

"Mary stopped by earlier," I said, when Henry did finally come back, nearly an hour and a half later. "She seemed upset about something. You should probably go see her."

"Ella," he said. "I need to talk to you."

I looked up. "Did you not hear what I said?" I asked impatiently. "Your fiancée wants to talk to you about something that sounded important."

"I'll go see her later," he said. "Right now I need to talk to _you_."

"Fine," I said, setting the down the book I had been examining. "What?"

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about earlier. It was my fault. I shouldn't have tried to pick a fight with you and I shouldn't have said some of those things. We've been getting along well recently and I don't want to ruin that."

"Henry," I sighed. "It's fine. It's not like you said anything that wasn't true. I don't know why I was defending him. Believe me, I really wish that I didn't feel the need to."

"But you love him," he said quietly.

"Yes," I agreed, nodding sadly. "I do."

* * *

"I'm bored!" James declared.

Anna looked up from her sewing. "Then leave," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

We were all gathered in my sitting room. Anna and I were sewing, while Elizabeth was in the corner, playing piano. James and Jane were seated at a table, playing some sort of card game. It was hard to tell which one because they mostly seemed to be ignoring the cards, more focused on playing footsy under the table instead.

James redirected his gaze to Anna, his smirk growing wider. "You'd miss me too much."

"I think I'd manage," she replied.

"Fine," he said, standing up and grabbing Jane's hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" she asked with a giggle, as she followed him to the door.

"Just follow me," he said, whisking her out of the room.

I had a feeling that Jane was very pleased with all the attention James had been bestowing upon her recently. If she had her way, he'd be putting a ring on her finger in no time at all. Of course, the chances of that actually happening were close to zero, but she didn't know that.

* * *

A few hours later, I was sitting by myself at my window seat, when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," I said.

The door opened. James was standing there, his sticking out in every direction and his clothes wrinkled.

"James," I said. "You're a mess. What happened?"

"Nothing," he said, grinning. "Jane and I were just having a bit of fun, that's all."

I sighed, patting the seat beside. "Sit," I said.

He crossed the room and sat down next to me. I reached up and began smoothing down his wild, chestnut-colored hair. He turned his head slightly, so that his bright blue eyes were looking directly into mine.

"Ella," he murmured softly.

"What?"

"You're just doing this so that you have an excuse to run your hands through my hair, aren't you?" he asked. "Just admit it, you can't resist me."

I shook my head. "You are really something else, James."

"I'm charming," he said.

"A bit too charming," I replied, lowering my hands. "There, that's better."

He lounged back against the wall, so that he was sitting sideways in the seat. I gazed at him for a moment. His hands were resting behind his head. His expression was content, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he turned and looked out the window, watching as the sun set into the horizon. He was the epitome of a privileged child. He had the looks, the charm, the wit. He had everything, but he was still able to be swept away in the beauty of a sunset.

"James," I said, a thought occurring to me. "You need to be careful with Jane. Her father is expecting her to make a good marriage. But no respectable man will have her for a wife if another man has already had his way with her."

The words made me cringe, even as they came out of my mouth. But society had been the same way for centuries. Women were expected to behave in a certain manner or their reputations would be ruined.

"Relax, Ella," James said, turning his gaze away from the window. "We were only kissing. She'll be a virgin for her husband."

I smiled, feeling relieved. "Although," I said, "I think that if she had things her way, you'll be her husband."

He frowned. "Me?"

"Yes, you," I said, nodding. "That girl is simply desperate to be the future Duchess of Atherton."

He chuckled. "Well, that isn't going to happen."

"You should tell her that," I advised. "You don't want her to get hurt."

"No," he agreed. "I definitely don't want that."

We sat in silence for a while, each deep in our own thoughts. It was nice, the kind of silence that wasn't the least bit awkward. Neither of us was waiting for the other to say anything. We were simply enjoying each other's company without feeling the need to fill it with mindless chatter.

Nearly ten minutes later, though, James did speak. And when he did, it completely caught me off guard.

"Does Anna ever talk about me?" he asked.

"Er, no," I said. "I don't think so." I paused. "Why?"

"She's quite beautiful, don't you think?" he asked, a strange expression on his face, one that I had never seen from him before.

"Yes," I agreed. "She is."

Anna wasn't beautiful in the way most girls were, but she was certainly stunning. Her raven-black hair was always pulled back tightly into a bun, not a strand out of place. She had very sharp features and eyes so dark that they sometimes almost looked black. Her pale skin always stood in stark contrast to the bright red lipstick she always wore. She was certainly gorgeous, but I never would have pegged her as being James' type.

"I think she's the most beautiful girl in the world," he murmured.

Suddenly I recognized the expression on his face. He looked vulnerable. For the first time in his life, James, the future Duke of Atherton, looked unsure of himself, his usual confidence had disappeared. How very strange.

"Is this why you won't marry Jane?" I asked, attempting to lighten the mood with a bit of teasing. "Because you want Anna to be the future Duchess of Atherton instead?"

He stared down at his feet, not saying anything.

"James," I said, trying a different approach. "Don't you think she's a bit old for you? You're only eighteen. She's twenty-five."

"It's seven years," he said, looking up. "Same as the age difference between you and Edmund."

He was right, of course. I was twenty and Edmund was twenty-seven.

"That's different," I said.

"Why?" he asked. "Because I'm a boy and she's a girl? It's the same thing."

"No, it's not," I said, shaking my head. "Girls mature faster than boys. Everybody knows that."

"I'm mature!" he protested, looking offended.

My eyebrows shot up.

"Well, I can be," he muttered.

"James," I said. "Even if age wasn't an issue, there's still the fact that I doubt Anna would ever be able to trust you. I mean, let's face it, you haven't really ever been the monogamous type."

"I could be," he said. "If I found the right person."

"And you think she's the right person?" I asked.

He nodded fervently. "Yes, I do."

I sighed. "James, even if you're serious about this, I really can't see her giving you a chance. She had her heart broken a long time ago and I don't think she's ever really recovered. I've heard the way she talks about men. She honestly doesn't trust them."

"It was the stable boy who broke her heart, right?"

"When she was sixteen," I added, nodding.

"I don't get it," he said. "She was miles above him on the social ladder. It's a miracle she even gave him the time of day. How was it that he was the one who broke her heart?"

"Obviously I wasn't around then," I said. "But from what I've heard, they fell in love and planned to run away together and get married in secret. She knew that none of her family would approve of the match. But the night that they planned to leave, she went to meet him and he wasn't there. Instead all she found was a note from him. He said that he didn't want to damage her reputation by running away with her and that marrying him would only ruin her life. She found out the next day that he quit his job and left without her."

"That's certainly sad," James said. "But I don't see how it's made her so untrusting of all men. It sounds like he did it out of love."

"Well, the thing is," I continued, "it turns out that all those things he had written in his note weren't exactly true. Apparently he had met someone else. They got married a few months later."

"Oh," James said quietly. "I see."

"If you want to win her heart, you're going to have to prove yourself," I said. "And it's not going to be easy." I patted his arm. "But you're a charming kid, James. So if anyone can pull it off, you can."

He nodded, looking thoughtful.

"But promise me one thing," I said.

"What?"

"Don't hurt her," I said. "If you break her heart, I doubt she'll ever recover. If she chooses you, you have to promise you'll be faithful."

"I can be," he said. "I promise. Edmund and I may be a lot alike, but we're not the same person."

It took me a moment to completely register what he meant by that last statement. But once it had, my mouth dropped open in shock. It was the first time I had ever heard him—or anyone that wasn't Sarah, Anna, or Henry— so blatantly address Edmund's infidelity.

"Oh…I, er…" I stammered. "That's…that's good to hear."

"Ella," he said, taking my hand. "My cousin's an idiot. I hope you know that you deserve better. So much better."

"Wait," I said, confused. "How did you know that I knew about all that?"

"I saw you," he replied. "On your birthday. You came back into the ballroom and you looked like you were on the verge of tears. Then you rushed upstairs. I had seen Edmund and that girl sneak away through the doors you had just come through. It wasn't hard to put two and two together."

I bit my lip, feeling a bit like I was on the verge of tears right now.

"I doubt it will make you feel any better," James said, "but you should know that he really does feel bad afterwards every time it happens."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Every time it happens?" I repeated. "How often is that?"

"That was a poor choice of words," he replied. "It's not like he constantly has another woman on the side or anything. It's more like he just slips up every once in a while."

"That doesn't really make me feel any better."

"Understandable," he said with a sigh. "But like I said, he's an ass and you deserve better." He paused. When I didn't reply, sighed again. "Ella, did you hear me?"

"Yes," I murmured. "I heard you. But what do you want me to say?"

"I don't know," he said. "I really don't."

* * *

**So what do you guys think will happen next?**


	14. Chapter 13

When I walked into the shop on Wednesday, I spotted Henry and Mary deep in conversation in the back room. The curtain that separated the room from the rest of the shop wasn't closed all the way, and through the small gap I could see them, their heads bent close together as they spoke in hushed whispers. Neither of them looked very happy.

"Hello, Ella," Lydia said from behind me, startling me.

I turned. "Oh," I said. "Hello."

She gestured toward the storage room. "Eavesdropping?" she asked.

"No," I said quickly, my face heating up. "No, of course not." I paused, ducking my head in shame. "I…I couldn't hear anything they were saying."

"Well, lucky for you," she said, "I apparently have better hearing than you."

My eyes widened. "_You_ were eavesdropping?"

She shrugged. "He's my brother. His business is my business."

"Well, that's fine and all," I replied. "But his business isn't any of _my_ business, so don't feel like you need to tell me anything."

"I normally wouldn't," she said. "But I can pretty much guarantee that this one piece of news is going to spread around town pretty fast. If you don't find out now, you will soon enough."

"So what is it?" I asked, trying to hide my blatant curiosity.

She leaned in close. "Mary is pregnant," she whispered, her voice so low that I had to strain to hear the words.

Her revelation shouldn't have come as much of a surprise. After all, I'd had my suspicions ever since Mary had come to the shop on Monday looking for Henry. I'd seen the way she had clasped her hand over her stomach as she stood there on the verge of tears. But even though I had pretty much already known, my heart still sunk as I heard Lydia confirm it. Which was ridiculous. I had no reason to be upset about this, unless it was just out of pity for Lydia. It was going to be tough for her. The world never reacted kindly to girls who got pregnant out of wedlock. Yes, the sadness I felt in the pit of my stomach was simply for Mary. It had nothing to do with anything else. Absolutely nothing else.

"Oh," I finally said. "Well, I suppose that means that they'll be getting married sooner than expected?"

"Ella," Lydia said quietly. "I wasn't finished."

My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Henry and Mary have never…you know, consummated their relationship. She insisted that they wait until marriage."

"Wait," I said, my eyes widening as her words sunk in. "Do you mean to tell me that Henry isn't the father of her baby?"

Lydia nodded. "That's exactly what I'm telling you."

"Then who is?" I asked, still in shock.

She shrugged. "Mary won't tell him."

A thought occurred to me. "Lydia," I said. "You don't suppose that some other man forced himself on her, do you? Maybe she wasn't really being unfaithful to Henry."

She shook her head. "Henry already asked her that. She told him that her relationship with whoever the other man is was completely consensual."

"Poor Henry," I murmured.

"Yes," Lydia said, nodding her head in agreement. "Poor Henry."

Suddenly the curtain was pushed to the side and Mary stepped out of the back room. She looked up, her eyes meeting mine, and then she ducked her head and hurried out of the shop without a word. A moment later, Henry also emerged. He stood in the doorway, a strange look on his face. I had expected him to look angry or sad, but instead his expression was almost void of any emotion at all.

"Henry," his sister said. "Do you want to talk?"

He just shook his head, mumbling something about wanting to be alone.

"Oh," Lydia said. "Well, if you change your mind…"

He nodded. "I think I'm just going to close up for today," he murmured. "You two can just head home, I suppose. Lydia, I'll be back in time for supper."

"Where will you be in the meantime?" she asked, her green eyes filled with concern.

He shrugged, staring at the ground. He looked lost and confused, like he didn't know where he was supposed to be.

"Okay," she said, turning to leave. "Well, I'll see you at home, Henry. Don't do anything stupid. Promise?"

He nodded. "Promise."

"Good," she replied.

After she had left, Henry turned to look at me. "Ella," he said. "Please go home."

"Henry," I murmured. "I'm so sorry about what happened with Mary."

"So you both overheard, huh?" he asked.

"Well, Lydia overhead," I said. "She told me."

"That girl never has been able to keep a secret," he said.

I walked ever to the nearest wall and leaned up against it, sliding down into a sitting position. I patted the floor next to. Henry hesitated for a moment, but then he came and sat down beside me. We sat in silence for a few moments, Henry staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. I merely watched him, waiting to see if he would eventually want to talk.

"It really hurts, doesn't it?" he finally said. "Being cheated on, I mean."

I nodded. "Yes," I agreed. "It most definitely hurts. A lot."

He turned slightly, so that he was looking directly at me. "Maybe we should start a club or something," he said. "For people who've had their hearts broken by their cheating significant others."

"I have a friend who would love to join," I said, thinking of Anna and her stable boy.

He sighed heavily, leaning his head back against the wall. "I hope that whoever impregnated Mary is a decent man. I hope he does the right thing and marries her. I don't want her life to be ruined because of this."

"You're a good man, Henry Toulson," I said quietly.

"You think?" he mumbled.

"Yes," I said. "Not everyone would selfless enough to wish the best for someone who had hurt them so soon after finding out."

"I really loved her," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

There was finally sadness in his eyes; his stony, emotionless expression from earlier gone. I reached for his hand, but he pulled away, burying his face in his hands instead. He let out a sob and I felt my heart break. I don't know what it was about Henry Toulson, but it seemed that whenever he was upset or hurt, my heart just couldn't take it.

"Henry," I said. "We need to get out of here."

He lifted his head and looked at me, his eyes filled with tears. "_We_?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, nodding. "I'm going to figure out some way to get your mind off things."

He tilted his head, considering this. "Fine," he said after a moment, standing up and holding out his hand to help me up. "Where are we going?"

"Just follow me," I replied.

He didn't let go of my hand as I led him out the door.

* * *

"Oh my god," he said when we arrived at our destination. "I completely forgot about this place. I can't believe it's still here."

When we were both five years old, Henry and I had decided that we wanted to build a fort. We wanted somewhere that we could go to be alone. Somewhere that was entirely ours. Somewhere where we could talk about anything, do anything, be anything. Somewhere that existed in a world of its own, away from everything and everyone else. So we found a place, deep in the woods behind our houses, a small clearing surrounded by tall elm trees that towered above our heads. Being five years old, fort building was a little out of our range of abilities, so we had enlisted the help of our fathers. The two of them pretty much built the whole thing for us, though Henry insisted on helping as much as he could. I, on the other hand, merely stood watching as I ordered them around. I wanted Henry and me to have the most wonderful, most spectacular fort in existence and I wanted to make sure everything was done the way I wanted it to be done. Of course, when it was all over, the whole thing was nothing more than a slightly lopsided shack crafted out of old planks of wood. The door squeaked on its hinges and never quite closed all the way. The roof leaked, causing the place to be flooded after every storm, until Henry had the sense to cover the whole roof with an old bed sheet, nailing down the sides so that it wouldn't fly off. It still leaked after that, but not as badly. Even with all its faults, we both loved that old shack in the woods. We spent as many days there as we possibly could, even winter days like this one, when it was much too cold to even step foot outside, much less spend hours huddled together in a flimsy wooden structure in the woods.

So much of my childhood had taken place in the very spot I now stood. But now all of those moments seemed like hazy memories, like dreams that had begun to fade away with the coming of morning or events that had taken place in some sort of past life. Henry and I were twenty years old now. Fifteen years had passed since this place had been built. Fifteen years, not so long in comparison to many things. When you took into account the age of the universe, it was really no time at all. But looking around, it became very obvious that during those fifteen years nearly everything had changed, at least for us. When Henry Toulson was five years old, he was a scrawny little thing with white-blond hair and a missing front tooth. He was shorter than me, but liked to stand on his toes and pretend he wasn't. The last time I saw him, he was barely ten years old. He looked more or less the same as he did when he was five. He was taller, of course, but still not as tall as me. He wasn't missing any teeth, but he was still scrawny and had white-blonde hair that stuck out at strange angles because he didn't let his mother comb it. He still had a careless grin and too many freckles and those bright green eyes. But the Henry Toulson standing in the doorway of our childhood fort was no longer a five year old, or even a ten year old. He was a man. His hair had faded to dark blonde, into a color that reminded me of honey, and was neatly combed. His freckles had all but disappeared entirely, with the exception of a few that were still scattered on his nose. He was tall, much taller than me, with broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw. He had to duck to get through the door and once inside he stood hunched over, looking like a giant that had wandered into a regular-sized person's home on accident. He was wearing a suit. He owned his own business. He had an ex-fiancée who was pregnant with another man's baby. He was no longer a child, that was painfully evident. Somewhere along the line, we had become adults. And he, well he had blossomed into a very handsome adult.

"I always knew you'd grow up to be handsome," I murmured, as the two of crowded into the tiny shack and sat down on the dirt floor that was now overgrown with weeds.

His face turned red and he focused his attention on a spider that was scurrying up once of the walls. "How could you have known that?" he asked, not looking at me. "I was an awkward looking kid, Ella. Even I'll admit it."

"You were not," I said. "You were cute and you had beautiful green eyes. I knew you'd grow into your looks."

He smiled and shook his head, finally turning to look at me.

"Did you think that I would grow up to be pretty?" I asked quietly, trying to ignore the way my stomach fluttered when he fixed those piercing eyes of his on me.

"Ella," he said, his face serious again. "I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world then and I think you are the most beautiful girl in the world now. Some things never change and that's one of them. You will always be the most beautiful, at least to me."

I didn't know what to say. I could feel my face heating up and my heart pounding in my chest and butterflies zooming around in my stomach. And none of those things were feelings that I, as a married woman, should have been feeling for another man. But it was hard to feel guilty. So I brushed the little bit of guilt I did feel aside and decided that, at least for the rest of the day, Edmund did not exist. I was not a princess. I did not live in a castle. I did not have an unfaithful husband. I was simply Ella Tremaine, the best friend of Henry Toulson.

"The most beautiful girl in the world," I finally whispered. "You really mean that?"

He nodded. "Of course."

I had once told Sarah that Edmund and Henry were equally handsome, but if she had asked right then I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would have said that Henry Toulson was the beautiful boy in the world.

We sat there for a while, reminiscing about that past, bringing up long-forgotten memories and laughing about how things had changed.

"Henry," I said, after our mindless chatter had faded into thoughtful silence. "There's something I need to do."

He looked at me curiously. "What?"

"I need to go visit my parent's graves," I said. "I haven't seen them since my father died." I paused, taking a deep breath. "Will you go with me?"

He nodded, standing up and holding out his hand. "Come on," he said. "They've waited a long time to see you."

* * *

I found their graves immediately. Even after all these years, I remembered exactly where they were buried. Henry hung back as I approached them, but I beckoned him forward, not wanting to be alone. We sat down in the brown grass, shivering in the cold January air, and stared down at the two tombstones. I had never even seen my father's; it had been put in place sometime after the funeral. I suddenly wished that I brought flowers or something. I hated that I was empty-handed, but when I mentioned this to Henry, he merely shrugged. "I'm sure they're just glad to see you," he said.

"I thought you didn't believe in life after death," I said. "Isn't that what you told those church ladies? You don't believe in God or any higher power. So how can you say that they're happy to see me? Don't you believe that they're nothing more than rotting corpses in the ground by now?"

He shrugged, squinting off into the distance. "I don't really know what I believe anymore," he said.

I had to agree with him. It seemed that as one grew older, the truth became blurrier and blurrier. Things that used to seem black and white became gray. Nothing made sense like it used to.

"Remember that last time we were here together?" I asked. "It was after my father's funeral and you came looking for me because I stayed behind after everyone had left. That's when you told me that you're father had gambled away all your money, that you had lost everything and were moving away."

"Yeah," he murmured. "Then we both started crying and fell asleep right here, probably in pretty much the same spots we're sitting now." He looked around and shuddered. "I can't believe we spent the entire night in a grave yard."

"We could do it again," I said quietly, leaning my head against his shoulder. "Fall asleep right here and forget all our worries until tomorrow."

"Except we can't," he said. "I told my sister I'd be home in time for supper. And you have a husband to get home to."

"I know," I replied sadly. "But it would have been nice."

"Yes," he agreed. "It would have been."

* * *

**I bet you guys weren't expecting things with Mary to turn out like that. **


	15. Chapter 14

"The truth has been revealed!" Lydia exclaimed dramatically as I walked into the store on Friday.

"The truth?" I repeated, puzzled. "What truth is that?"

"The father of Mary's baby, of course," she replied. "Do you want to know who he is?"

My eyes widened. "You know who it is?" I asked. "How? Did she decide to tell Henry?"

Lydia shook her head, her mousy brown braid whipping from side to side. "No, but they've been spotted together all over town. And people have overheard them talking about it."

"So who is it?" I asked, leaning across the counter in anticipation. I felt ridiculous, like a gossipy old lady, but my curiosity had gotten the best of me.

"The Lutheran minister," she replied.

I gasped. Our kingdom was mainly Catholic, but Edmund's father had passed a decree many years before that stated that there was to be freedom of religion throughout the kingdom and that nobody was to be persecuted for their religious beliefs. Several Protestant churches had popped up after that, including a Lutheran one. The pastor, a young man in his late twenties or early thirties, was a regular at the book shop. He was a bit on the short, stocky side and had already started to go bald. Maybe it was shallow of me, but I couldn't quite understand why Mary would cheat on Henry Toulson with _him_.

"She got pregnant out of wedlock with the Lutheran minister's baby," I murmured. "How scandalous."

"At least it isn't the Catholic priest's baby," Lydia said. "Now _that_ would be the scandal of the century."

"Is he going to marry her?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I think he'll have to, now that everyone knows that the baby's his. If he doesn't, she'll be ruined. But I would think that he would be too. I mean, he _is_ a minister and –"

The door opened and Henry walked in. The two of us froze, our heads still bent together. He looked back and forth between the two of us. "What're you two talking about?" he asked.

"Nothing," we both said at the same time.

"Ah," he said, nodding. "You're talking about Mary."

"Maybe," Lydia admitted.

"Well, it is quite the scandal," he said, frowning. "Although, I must say, scandals are always significantly less entertaining when they involve you."

"I'm sorry, Henry," I said.

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter anymore. Talk about whatever you like."

He looked around sadly, still looking a bit like a lost puppy. I held up the basket I had brought with me. "I I brought cookies," I said. "They're really delicious, the best cookies in world even. I had one of our cooks make them."

"You're trying to cheer me up with baked goods?" he asked.

"Trust me," I said. "Once you taste these you will forget that Mary even exists." I pushed the basket into his arms. "Just try one."

He took the basket out of my hands, picked up one of the cookies, and took a bite. "You're right," he said, after he had swallowed. "That might just have been the best cookie I've ever tasted."

Lydia's face lit up. "I want to try one!" she exclaimed, reaching for the basket.

Henry yanked it away. "I don't think so," he said, smirking.

"Henry!" she said. "Give me a cookie."

I stood there, smiling contentedly as they began to chase each other around the shop. Henry was laughing, looking more carefree than he had in ages. Sometimes baked goods really were the key to cheering someone up, even if it was only temporarily.

* * *

"There's my girl!" James exclaimed loudly, throwing himself down onto the sofa beside Anna, jostling her and causing the book she was reading to fall to the floor.

"I'm not your girl, James," she said, leaning down to pick up her book.

"Aw, come on," he said. "You don't mean that."

"I assure you that I do," she said flatly.

He turned to look at me. "Ella, tell her that he doesn't mean that!"

"I think the lady means it, James," I replied.

"Well," he said, not moving from where he sat, much too close to Anna, "I guess I'll just have to change her mind."

She rolled her eyes and tried to scoot away, but there was really nowhere for her to go. He had her trapped up against the end of the sofa, their shoulders and legs pressed together. Still, she could have easily gotten up and gone to sit somewhere else. But she didn't. She just sighed heavily and went back to reading her book, not saying anything when he moved his hand to the back of her neck and began to massage it.

"You're very tense," he murmured.

"Yes, well," she said, "there's an annoying boy who won't leave me alone. It's causing me a lot of stress."

It was that moment that Jane chose to walk into the room. I saw her gaze fall on James and Anna, and I watched as her eyes widened and then almost immediately narrowed.

"James," she said, rather loudly. "I was thinking that you and I could go take a walk or something together."

He glanced over at her, his expression disinterested. It was the same look I had seen him give all too many girls, a look that was dismissive and cold and very clearly said one thing – that he had lost interest, grown bored, and had already moved on. I saw Jane shrink back slightly. She clearly recognized the expression as well.

But of course, it wasn't in James's nature to be mean, so almost immediately the disinterest on his face was replaced by a charming smile. "Sorry, Jane," he said. "I'm not much in the mood for a walk right now."

"We could do something else," she offered, a hopeful expression on her face.

He shook his head, his hand still resting on the back of Anna's neck. "I don't think so."

"Another time?" she asked quietly.

"Jane," he said. "I think you've gotten the wrong idea about us. I'm not ready to settle down yet. I can't give you what you want and I'm really sorry if I led you on. I truly didn't mean to hurt you."

She stood there frozen for a moment, but then she nodded quickly and dashed out the door. James watched her go, a sad expression clouding his handsome features. I knew he felt guilty, but I was glad he had done what he had. If he was serious about pursuing a relationship with Anna then he couldn't be flirting with other girls.

"James," Anna said suddenly. "That neck massage actually felt nice. Please don't stop."

He turned and looked at her, a shocked expression on his face. "Really?"

"Well," she said with a shrug. "You're the reason I have all that tension anyway, so it's the least you could do."

* * *

The following week, I was walking down the hallway on the way back to my room when I heard moaning coming from one of the spare bedrooms. I paused for a moment, puzzled. I knew for a fact that nobody was staying in that particular room at the moment. Perhaps two servants had snuck in there for some alone time? Or perhaps it was… No, no. I didn't want to even think about that possibility.

The girl inside the room giggled loudly. I recognized the laugh immediately. I had heard it countless times, paired with batting eyelashes and too much hair flipping. It was the flirty laugh that Jane had directed toward James on many occasions. The girl inside was definitely Jane. But who was she with?

I took a deep breath and grabbed the doorknob. Turning it, I discovered that it was locked. I began to pound on the door with my fist. "Jane!" I shouted. "Jane, I know you're in there with someone. Open this door right now!"

Inside I could hear hushed voices and sheets being thrust aside and footsteps hurrying across the floor. After a few minutes, the door was flung open. Jane stood in the doorway, frantically combing her hands though her hair with one hand while clutching a sheet around herself with the other. I pushed her aside and stepped inside the room. It was empty; whoever she had been with had escaped through the other door. His shirt still lay on the floor next to Jane's clothes. Whoever he was, he had obviously run out with only his trousers on. I turned around and looked at Jane. Her eyes were wide as she stared right back at me.

"Ella –" she began to say.

I held up my hand, cutting her off. "Who were you with, Jane?" I said quietly.

She ducked her head, staring at the ground, and I felt my heart sink.

_Please don't say Edmund._

_Please don't say Edmund._

_Please don't say Edmund._

Finally, after a painfully long silence, she lifted her head, tilting her chin up definitely. "I was with James," she said matter-of-factly.

Maybe it was stupid, but for a moment I almost wished she _had _said Edmund. After all, I already knew about his infidelity. I had learned to deal with it. But this, this was unacceptable. James had seemed so sincere when he had confessed his love for Anna. I had truly believed him when he had said that he could be trusted, that he was different than Edmund. Things had been going so well for him and Anna too. She didn't have romantic feeling for him yet, at least not that I knew of, but she had stopped rolling her eyes whenever he came into the room. She usually let him sit by her and laughed at his jokes. And he always seemed so charming, so attentive. How could he have gone and messed things up so quickly? And _why_? It was uncharacteristically cruel of him, not just toward Anna, but toward Jane as well. He knew how desperate she was to marry him. Why would he lead her on like this, especially after apologizing for doing that very thing only a week before? And now, if he didn't marry her, she would be ruined. I had warned him about this. No man would marry her now.

"I can't believe this," I murmured quietly.

"Well, believe it," Jane replied. "Because it happened."

I turned to leave. I wanted to find James, wherever he was, and give him a piece of my mind. He deserved a good slap upside the head. Actually, he deserved much more than that. Oh, when I got my hands on him, he was going to be sorry…

Something caught my eye. A handkerchief, lying on the ground beside the pile of clothes. It looked so familiar. I leaned down and picked it up, recognizing it immediately. It was the handkerchief I had made for Edmund for his birthday. I had carefully stiched his initials into the corner.

"Jane," I said slowly, not taking my eyes of the piece of fabric in my hands. "You're lying aren't you? You weren't with James. You were with Edmund."

"Yes," she replied in tone that didn't sound quite as remorseful as I had expected it to sound. I looked up, she was looking directly at me, her arms crossed over her chest. She didn't look embarrassed or sorry. She almost looked proud. I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick.

"James isn't interested in me anymore," she continued. "He only has eyes for _Anna_ now." I could hear the venom in voice when she said Anna's name. She practically spat it, like it was something disgusting, a bad taste she couldn't get out of her mouth. "I was heartbroken and your husband took it upon himself to comfort me." She shrugged. "It's not my fault that you don't have more control over him."

I laughed bitterly. "You know what's funny about this situation?" I asked.

She shrugged carelessly. "Enlighten me."

"You've been so desperate to find a husband," I said. "That's the only reason you even came here. You wanted to bag yourself a rich husband."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that with this one stupid decision you've completely ruined your chances. Nobody will marry you now, at least nobody respectable. No man wants a wife whose virginity belongs to someone else. Perhaps it isn't fair, but it's just how it is. You might as well go back to wherever you came from and marry a farmer. If you can find one who will have you, anyway. Because as soon as word gets out about this, you're finished here."

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me, her mouth drawn into a tight line.

"When this is all said and done," I continued, "I'll still be Edmund's wife. I'll still be his princess, his future queen. And you'll just be a girl with a ruined reputation. You may have had your way with him this once, and who knows, maybe it'll happen again. But at some point, he_ will _get bored with you and push you away. Just like he did with all the girls before he married me. Just like he did with all the girls after he married me. You're no different to him then all the rest. He chose to marry _me_. He may cheat on me, but he's _never _going to toss me aside like an old forgotten toy. I'll be queen and you'll be nothing. So congratulations, Jane. I hope you're happy."

I left her there in a stunned silence, half-naked and crying silently. I had never said so many cruel things to one person in my entire life. I had never lashed out like that, behaved in such a vicious manner. Something inside of me must have snapped.

But right then, I didn't care about all things I had said to Jane. I wanted to find Edmund. I finally wanted to give him a piece of mind. I was done being passive, done letting him treat me badly without saying a word. I was finally going to confront him. Now all I had to do was find him. The only problem was, he didn't seem to be anywhere. I looked all over the castle, checking nearly every room that he could possibly be in. I roamed the grounds, calling his name. But I couldn't find him anywhere.

Just as I was about to give up my search, I spotted James and Anna. They were sitting on a bench outside. Anna was pointing up at one of the buttresses on the castle, an enthusiastic look on her face as she explained something to James. But instead of looking bored, James appeared to be listening intently to what was no doubt a very long-winded explanation about something architecture- related. He was smiling, his arm draped casually over shoulder as he nodded along to whatever she was saying. I suddenly felt horrible for believing Jane when she had said that he had been with her. He was obviously very serious about Anna. I should have known that he wouldn't have done anything to jeopardize their blooming relationship.

"Hello," I said, trying to smile cheerfully as I approached them. Anna stopped talking and they both turned to look at me.

"Ella," she said. "What's wrong? You look horrible."

"Are you okay?" James asked.

Apparently my strained smile wasn't fooling anyone.

"Have either of you seen Edmund?" I asked.

"He just left," James said.

"Left?" I asked. "Left for where?"

"Didn't he tell you?" James asked, frowning. "He's going to be in..." He trailed off, his face scrunching up in a manner that suggested he was trying to remember something. "He's going to be in some other kingdom for about a week. I can't remember which one. There's some sort of meeting going on to address something political." He shrugged. "I can't really remember the details. I wasn't listening when he explained everything. The point is he's going to be gone for at least a week. I'm surprised he didn't tell you."

"Oh," I managed to respond.

They both stared at me, alarmed expressions on their faces. I couldn't blame them. I had somehow started to cry, without even realizing it.

"Ella," Anna said. "Ella, what's wrong?"

My head was pounding and my vision began to swim. I could hear Anna and James both saying my name, but they sounded very far away, like they were on the other side of a very long tunnel. Then the world tilted sideways and everything went black.

* * *

**You guys were all so sure that Edmund was going to be the father of that baby. I was cracking up when practically every comment on the last chapter suggested it. It was a pretty reasonable prediction to make too, all things considered, but I was never going to make Edmund the father. I don't like being that predictable :)**

**Anyway, please keep leaving predictions/suggestions/questions/comments/concern s. I love reading all your reviews!**


	16. Chapter 15

I opened my eyes, blinking as the blurry faces of Anna and James came into focus. I was laying face-up on the hard, frozen ground. They were both standing above me, anxious expressions on their faces.

"Ella!" Anna exclaimed as I sat up. "Are you okay?"

I nodded slowly. "I…I think so. How long was I out?"

"Just a couple minutes," James replied. "I was about to pick you up and carry you inside."

"You should go lie down," Anna said worriedly.

"And you need to eat something," James added, holding out his hand to help me up. "I'll help you up to your room. Anna, you go tell the kitchen staff to bring something up for her."

I followed James inside, clutching his hand tightly. I still felt dizzy and light-headed, like any minute I might faint again.

"So what happened out there?" he asked, as he led me up the stairs. "You just kind of collapsed. It scared the hell out of Anna and me. When was the last time you ate something?"

"Lunch," I said. "I don't think that it was the lack of food that caused me to pass out, James."

"Then what was it?" he asked, pausing at top of the stairs and leaning against a wall. He crossed his arms across his chest and locked eyes with me. I could tell by his serious expression that he was truly concerned.

"I was just really upset about something," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "It's not a big deal."

"Ella," he said, "you fainted. I think it is a big deal."

I sighed, deciding that it would be best to just tell him the truth. He would probably just hound me until I told him anyway. "Edmund was with Jane."

His eyes widened. "And you caught them together?"

"Not quite," I said. "He was gone by the time I got into the room. But she admitted that it was him. And then, oh god…" I trailed off, clutching my head, wishing the pounding would stop. "Then I just started shouting at her. I told her that she had ruined her reputation and that nobody will want to marry her now. I said that Edmund would get bored with her soon enough and she'll have nothing, while I live happily ever after as the queen."

"Ella," James said gently. "You were angry. Everything you said was perfectly understandable under the circumstances." He picked up my hand again. "But now I really think you need to go lie down."

I nodded slowly. "All right," I said. "I suppose I could use a nap right now."

I stepped into my room, closing the door behind me. Flinging myself down on my bed, I closed my eyes and tried not to think about anything. Because a blank mind would be the only way I could possibly fall asleep. Any thought I had, any thought at all, would somehow remind me of Edmund, or Jane, or Rosa, or Catalina the maid. I didn't want to think about the fact that the handsome prince I had fallen so deeply and madly in love with so quickly was slowly slipping farther and farther out of my grasp. I didn't want to think about the fact that I was letting him walk all over me by continuing not to stand up for myself. And I certainly didn't want to think about the fact that sometimes late at night my thoughts turned to Henry Toulson…

* * *

"Anna and I are going for a walk into town," James told me the next day. "Would you like to come with us?"

I shook my head. "James, I know you want to be alone with Anna. Things seem to be going well for the two of you; I don't want to be the third wheel."

A mischievous smile spread across his face. "Come on, Ella," he said. "We need a chaperone."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Why are you really inviting me along?" I asked. "I know you've never cared about propriety before. You've snuck off with many a girl before without any chaperoning involved."

He leaned lazily against the wall. The two of us were standing in the corridor outside of my room. On the wall behind him was a priceless tapestry woven several hundred years ago by a group of cloistered monks who lived in the mountains on the edge of the kingdom. It was one of countless artifacts in the castle that I was still slightly afraid to touch. James, however, seemed to have no problem lounging up against it like it was an old bed sheet.

"We just don't want you to feel lonely right now," he said. "I mean, who are you going to talk to with the two of us gone? _Jane_?"

"I can talk to Elizabeth," I said defensively.

"Elizabeth doesn't talk," he retorted.

"I'm fine with being alone."

"Ella," he said, pouting slightly. "Just come with us. Please."

The problem with saying "no" to a pouting James was that it felt eerily similar to drowning a litter of puppies or kicking a baby. In other words, anybody with a heart would find themselves unable to do so.

"Fine," I snapped, exasperated. "I'll go into town with you and Anna."

"I knew you'd say yes," he said, his pout immediately turning into a cheeky grin. "It's impossible to say no to me. I've been told I'm irresistible."

"Who told you that?" I asked, ignoring the fact that I had been thinking the exact same thing only moments before.

"Anna," he replied matter-of-factly.

"She did not," I said. "She probably said you were irritating and you misheard."

"Maybe," he admitted, grinning carelessly. "But you know I only hear what I want to hear."

Sometimes I seriously questioned whether it was actually possible to get through an entire conversation with James without rolling my eyes at least once. It was times like these that I was pretty certain that the answer to the question definitely no.

So I simply rolled my eyes once again and followed him down the corridor.

* * *

"So was there a reason that you two wanted to come into town?" I asked, as the three of stood huddled together in the town square. "You do realize it's the middle of the winter, right? It's not exactly prime outdoor weather."

"Oh, hush," Anna said. "We know you hate the cold, Ella. But it's a nice day. The sun is shining. The snow has completely melted. So do try and enjoy yourself, okay?"

I grumbled under my breath and pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders. "Fine."

"Good," she said. "Now I just need to pick up a few things for Catherine. It won't take too long. Ella, why don't you take James to that little bookshop you work at? I'm sure he'd love to see it. I'll meet you two there when I've finished."

"Or," James said, edging closer to her. "I could come with you." He glanced at me. "Ella too, I guess."

"Don't act like having me here is a burden, James," I said. "You invited me, remember?"

He grinned at me goofily, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue.

"Are you twelve?" I asked.

"I was six years ago," he replied.

Beside me, Anna groaned. "Oh my god, you're a_ baby_. I always forget how young you are."

"Not that young," he said, waggling his eyebrows in her direction. "In fact, I'd consider myself to be a pretty worldly, experienced man." He smirked at her, very deliberately raking his gaze up and down her body. "I could prove it to you if you'd like."

She smacked his arm. "Shut up, James. Go to the bookshop with Ella."

"Ow," he whined. "Damn, Anna. I was kidding."

"No, you weren't!" she snapped, glaring at him with fire in her eyes, her carefree demeanor from moments earlier gone. "You meant everything you said. You want to show me just how _worldly and experienced _you are! You're a man, James. You only have one thing on your mind. You've proven that time and time again. I don't know why I was fooling myself into thinking that I could be different. It's obvious that—"

"Anna!" he exclaimed, cutting her off. "Just listen to me for a minute, okay?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down. "What?" she growled.

"Of course I want to do those things with you," he began, holding up his hand when she opened her mouth to begin shouting again. "But damn it, Anna, I want so much more than that."

I took a few steps backward, exceptionally uncomfortable with how intrusive standing there felt, but unable to leave. Maybe it was nosy, but I wanted to hear what he was going to say.

"If you're not ready to be with me right now, that's fine. I'll wait. No matter what you may think, I do not just have one thing on my mind. Yes, I want you, all of you. But I'm content with just being your friend. With just spending time with you. With just sitting next to while you babble on and on about the architectural significance of some ancient building. And if you think I'm not listening, then you'd be wrong. I listen to everything you say, Anna. If it's come out of your mouth, I've heard it. Do you understand? I'm not here simply because I want a physical relationship with you. I'm here because I want you in my life, in whatever way you're comfortable with. If you're there, then I'm there, wherever there might be."

Anna looked like she was on the verge of tears. I had to admit, even I was feeling a little misty-eyed.

"Go to the bookshop, James," she whispered. "I'll meet you two there as soon as I'm finished."

"That's it?" he replied, looking disappointed. "I poured my heart out to you and you simply say the same thing you were saying before?"

"James," she said, laying her hand on his arm. "You said you were happy with having me in your life in whatever way I'm comfortable with, right?"

"Right," he said, nodding.

"Well, I don't know what I'm comfortable with yet. I need some time to think. So you and Ella go to the bookshop and let me run my errands in peace, alright?"

He nodded. "Alright."

She smiled at him, a genuine smile that lit up her eyes, and then she turned to leave.

"Anna," he called after her. She turned back around.

"Hurry," he said.

She smiled again, shaking her head. "I'll do my best."

* * *

"Hmm," I said, glancing out the window of Henry's bookshop ten minutes later. "She really did hurry."

"What?" James asked, looking up from the book he was flipping through.

I pointed out the window to where Anna was hurriedly crossing the street, a distraught look on her face. A moment later, the door was flung open and she stepped inside, where she immediately burst into tears. Up at the counter, Lydia watched with wide eyes, as did every other customer in the shop.

"Anna, what's wrong?" James and I both exclaimed at the same time, immediately rushing to her side.

"I saw him," she said. "He was walking down the street."

"Wait," I said. "I think I'm missing something. Who is _he_?"

"Peter!" she exclaimed.

"Who the hell is Peter?" James asked.

"The stable boy who broke her heart," I answered for her.

"I haven't seen him since I was sixteen!" she cried, wiping her nose on her shawl.

James wrinkled his nose and pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket, handing it to her. She quickly grabbed it, blowing her nose loudly. The shop's patrons continued to stare openly.

"He was with his wife," she continued. "The woman he left me for. They had these two sons with them, twins. They all looked so happy together." She turned and glanced out the window, her face immediately going white. "They're coming in here," she hissed. "Hide me!"

The door opened and in strolled the mysterious stable boy and his family.

Anna froze.

Their eyes met.

* * *

**Sorry that this chapter is so short. Also, I apologize for taking a little longer to update than usual. I was on vacation with my family in New York City last week. Plus, I'm not even going to lie, I've been a little bit depressed about Cory Monteith's death. Are any of you Glee fans?**


	17. Chapter 16

"Peter," Anna whispered, her voice cracking slightly. She immediately looked annoyed with herself. It was obvious that wished she could have managed to greet him in a more nonchalant manner.

"Anna," he replied briskly, in a completely different tone than her own. "How nice it is to see you again." He took his wife's hand and smiled, almost unkindly, at Anna.

"I would have thought he'd be more handsome," James murmured in my ear, not particularly quietly. "Didn't you?"

It was true that there was nothing particularly notable about Peter's appearance. He was of average height and a little stocky (though that could have been a recent development). His eyebrows were a bit too bushy and his nose was slightly off center. He wasn't ugly, but he certainly wasn't handsome either. But then again, I spent my days surrounded by the likes of Edmund, James, and Henry, so my standards were perhaps a bit higher than they had once been.

Peter's whirled his head around to where James and I were standing. His eyes narrowed as he looked James up and down. "Who're you?" he growled.

James took a few steps closer to Anna, snaking his fingers through hers. "Anna's beau," he said, grinning cockily.

Anna shot him a confused look, but he merely nodded his head at her, urging her to go along with it.

"Yes," she said after a moment. "James is my beau."

"We're madly in love," James added, his smile growing wider. "We're probably going to get married soon."

Anna's eyes narrowed, but she forced a smile. "Yes," she agreed through gritted teeth.

"Peter," his wife said suddenly. "Who is this woman?"

"Just a girl I used to know," he replied, with a dismissive wave of his hand, "back when I worked at the castle. It was a long time ago."

"A very long time ago," Anna murmured quietly.

Peter's sons—twins with blonde hair and rosy cheeks—grinned up at Anna.

"She's pretty, Papa," one of them said.

"Prettier than you, Mama," the other added.

Their mother's face fell. James let out a snort of laughter and I elbowed him in the stomach. Peter looked livid.

"That's a terrible thing to say," he hissed at his sons. "You should be ashamed of yourselves."

"It's fine, dear," his wife said, placing her hand gently on his arm. "Don't worry about it."

"No, it's not fine!" Peter shouted.

Everyone in the shop turned and openly stared at him.

"You are their mother and she is some random woman they've never met," he continued. "You deserve more respect from them."

"My god," James muttered. "They're, what, five years old? I'm sure they didn't mean any harm."

Peter glared at him. "Stay out of this!" he hissed. "It's none of your business."

"I disagree," James said. "You've upset my girl. That is my business."

"How have I upset Anna?" Peter asked. "All I've done is walk into a shop with my family."

"Exactly!" James exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "This is the first time she's seen you since you left her all those years ago. And now you come in here, flaunting your family and acting all indifferent about seeing her."

"I didn't know that she would be in here!" Peter snapped. "I'm not flaunting anything. Besides, all of that happened nearly ten years ago. If she still isn't over me, than she's more pathetic than I could possibly have imagined!"

His last statement came out rather loudly and the entire shop went silent, everyone's mouths hanging open as they looked back and forth between Peter and James. Even Peter's wife looked horrified.

In all the time that I had known James, I had never seen him look so angry. "How dare you!" he snarled. "You're the pathetic one, not her. And she is over you. That's why she's with me!"

Peter's lip curled into a nasty smirk. "Seems to me like she's a bit desperate then," he said. "I mean, really, how old are you anyway? She looks more like your nanny than your fiancée."

The next few moments were a bit of a blur, but they ended with Peter sprawled on the ground, clutching his nose and howling in pain.

"Oops," James said, as he grabbed Anna's hand and whisked her toward the door. "I guess my fist slipped."

I quickly followed them out of the shop. For a minute the three of us just stood there, staring at each other, not saying a word. Then Anna broke the silence when a loud giggle escaped from her mouth. James and I turned to look at her, confused expressions on our faces.

"Why are you laughing?" James asked.

"Because," she replied, still giggling. "The whole thing is so…so ridiculous. I've been pining after that man since I was sixteen years old. He's the reason I've closed myself off to love. He's the reason I barely trust anyone of the opposite sex. And now that I've seen him again, I can't even begin to imagine what I was thinking. How could I have ever loved someone so vile?" She paused, taking a deep breath. "And you punched him. You punched right in the middle of a bookshop! I can't believe you did that!"

"I'm sorry," he murmured, ducking his head and looking sheepish.

"Don't be sorry," she said. "It was hilarious."

His eyes widened and then his face broke into a huge grin. He held out his arms and she fell into his embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

"You know what?" she whispered in his ear.

"What?"

"I think that my taste in men has improved since I was sixteen," she replied softly. "I can tell the good ones from the bad ones. And it's obvious now that Peter was a bad one."

"What about me?" James asked, a hopeful expression on his face. "What am I?"

"You are definitely one of the good ones," she said, smiling up him.

The expressions on both their faces were undeniable. They were both gazing at each other with such adoration, with such love. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling bad for intruding on their moment. And when it became obvious that neither of them had any plans from separating from their tight embrace anytime soon, I quietly slipped away and headed back to the castle alone.

* * *

Over the next week, as I waited for Edmund to return, I felt myself growing angrier and angrier. At night, I would toss and turn in my bed, unable to sleep, asking myself over and over again why this was happening to me? What had I done to deserve a husband who couldn't love me and me alone? I was tired of turning my head in the other direction, pretending that everything was fine. I was tired of pretending that I wasn't hurting. I was going to confront him as soon as he returned. Things couldn't continue the way they were going. Something had to change. And I had to be the one to trigger that change.

When Edmund finally did arrive back, I went along with the servants and the court to greet him. He stepped out of his carriage and made his way up the steps, his face breaking into a huge smile when he spotted me, standing just inside the doorway.

"Ella, my beautiful wife!" he exclaimed, scooping me up in his arms and whirling me around. "I've missed you, my darling."

I didn't say anything, keeping my hands to myself as he set me back down.

"Ella?" he asked. "Are you alright? You look upset about something."

This was it. The moment of truth.

"Actually, Edmund" I said, "I am upset. I've been upset for quite some time now. Ever since I saw a certain somebody sneaking off with a certain girl on my birthday."

Edmund's eyes widened. "Ella—"he began.

He didn't get to finish because at that moment, one of the king's attendants burst into the room, panting heavily. "Your Highness," he said. "Come quickly. The king… the king is dying."

And just like that, our conversation was over. Edmund's face went white and he froze, not moving anything except for his hands, which began to shake uncontrollably.

"Come quickly, sir," the servant repeated. "He's asking for you."

Edmund still didn't move. He seemed to have gone into shock. It was strange, and a bit annoying, but all my anger toward him dissipated. At least for now. I knew how much he loved his father. Over the centuries, there had been many princes who had hated their fathers, had even plotted to kill them, because they wanted the crown so badly for themselves. This had never been the case for Edmund. I think that he would have quite happily never taken his place on the throne if it meant his father could live forever. His mother had died when he was young and he had no siblings. The king was his only immediate family. And now he was going to lose him. The wave of sympathy that washed over me in that moment was real. I knew what he was going through. I knew the pain of losing one's father. I knew how alone you felt after happened, like you had no one left who really knew you, no one who had been there from the beginning.

"Edmund," I said, grabbing one of this shaking hands. "You must go to your father."

He turned and looked at me, a puzzled look on his face, as if he was surprised that I was even talking to him.

"I can't," he murmured.

"Yes, darling," I replied. "You can. And you must." I took a step forward, still holding his hand. "I'll come with you."

He allowed me to lead him up the stairs and down the long hallway that led to the king's private rooms. Edmund's let out a strangled whimper when he saw his father, lying alone his bed, looking frail and small. His breath had grown shallow and he appeared to be struggling to keep his eyes open. I hung back, wanting to give the two of them some privacy. But Edmund turned and looked at me with the widest, most desperate eyes I had ever seen. He looked like a lost puppy dog who was looking for his master. So I followed him to the edge of the king's bed. I went to him even though he didn't deserve me. I went to him because I still loved him. I went to him because he needed me.

"Papa," he whispered, grabbing his father's wrinkled hands as he knelt down. "Papa, I'm here."

"Edmund," the king murmured, gazing at his son. "Edmund, is that you?"

"Yes, Papa," he said. "It's me. I'm here."

The king began to cough loudly. Edmund looked at me with frantic eyes. "You're doing great," I told him, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Just make sure he knows you love him."

"I love you, Papa," Edmund said, tears welling up in his eyes. "And I'm so sorry that you'll never get to see any of your grandchildren."

"Oh, my dear boy," the king said. "Do not worry about that now. I will be able to watch over you and all of your future children where I am going. And I will be with your mother. Oh, how I long to see her again."

"Tell her that I miss her every day," Edmund said. "And that I love her."

"I will," the king whispered. "And you must promise me one thing."

"Anything," Edmund replied.

"Take care of Ella. Make her happy. Provide for her and love her with all your heart. Can you do that?"

"Yes," he said, nodding his head. "Yes, I can." He turned and looked at me, sincerity in his eyes. "I promise."

I didn't know if he was telling the truth or if he just wanted to make his dying father happy, but I didn't have much time to wonder.

"Good," the king said, closing his eyes. "I love you, son."

"I love you too," Edmund replied.

"It's time for me to go home," his father said.

We both watched as his chest rose and fell for the final time. And then he was gone.

"The king is dead," one of the attendants said quietly, turning to look at Edmund. "Long live the king."

Edmund was still clutching his dead father's hands. Once again, he seemed frozen, unable to move. I waited for him to do something, to say something. But he just stayed there, kneeling at his father's side, tears running down his face for nearly a half an hour. Finally, I placed my hand gently on his shoulder.

"Come away from here, Edmund," I said. "You should try to get some sleep."

Still kneeling, he scooted around so that he was facing me. And then, after wrapping his arms around my waist, he buried his head in my stomach and began to sob loudly. I ran my hands though his soft, dark hair and whispered comforting things. After a few minutes, he sniffled loudly, wiping his eyes, and tilted his head up to look at me.

"Don't leave me, Ella," he whimpered. "I know I've been an awful husband. I know I don't deserve you. But I can change—I _will_ change. I promise. I swear. Just don't leave me alone. Not right now."

I don't know why I decided to trust him. I don't know why I decided that he was telling the truth. Perhaps it was the sincerity in his voice. Perhaps it was the fact that he had promised his father and I wanted to believe that he wouldn't break a promise to a dead man. But most likely it was the look in his eyes. It was the look he'd given me the first time we'd met. It was the look that had made me fall in love with him. It was the look that had made me believe that he loved me too.

_I arrived at the ball later than everyone else, wearing a gown that I never could have imagined, even in my wildest dreams. Everyone was already dancing and I stood there, unsure of where to go or who to talk to. And then I spotted him. The prince. He was standing across the room and girls were flocking around him, desperate to be the future queen. I could tell he was handsome, even from the back. Then he turned around, and his eyes locked on mine. He really was beautiful, that was the first thing I noticed. And then I saw his eyes. They were like chocolate and they were looking directly at me. A small smile spread across his face and he immediately crossed the room. _

"_May I have this dance?" he asked, holding out his hand._

_I took it. "Of course," I murmured, blushing and unable to believe my good fortune. _

_When we began to dance together it was like the whole world suddenly made sense. Everything fell into place. I belonged in his arms. As long as he was holding me, I would be safe. Because the way he looked at me—Nobody had ever looked at me like that before. Over the past decade, I had received nothing but glares and sneers from my stepmother and stepsisters. But the prince looked at me like he never wanted to look at anything else ever again. He looked at me like I was beautiful, like I was something to be admired and adored. So I held him close and vowed to never let go and I let the music sweep us away to a different world. And I let myself fall. I let myself fall deeply in love._

"I won't leave you," I said, as he pulled himself to his feet. "I promise."

I led him back to my room and I closed the door behind us. For a moment, we both just stood there, staring at each other. And then we fell into the bed. Our lips met and something was different. Kissing him hadn't felt like this in so long. Now it felt so right. So perfect.

"I promise," he whispered in my ear afterwards.

He didn't say anything else, but I knew what he was referring to. And I decided to believe him.

* * *

**I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to update. I've started college and I've been super busy. I don't know how often I'll be able to update, but I'll try my best to do so whenever I get a chance. **

**Anyway, it's been a while since I've written any of this story, so I kind of lost my momentum and forgot where I was going with it. So I apologize if this chapter is not very good. **


	18. Chapter 17

"Are you ready?" Anna asked from where she stood behind me.

I stood up straighter, squaring my shoulders as I gazed at my reflection in the full-length mirror. "Not in the slightest," I replied, running my hands over the jewel-encrusted bodice of my gown.

"You look beautiful, Ella," she murmured. "I think you're ready to go."

"No," I said. "Tighten my corset a bit more."

"Ella," she said, "you do realize that you'll need to be able to breathe during the ceremony, don't you?"

"Just pull it a little tighter," I insisted. "I think I must have gained some weight or something recently."

"I'm not tightening it," she replied stubbornly, folding over arms over her chest. "You are about to be crowned queen and I'll be damned if I let you pass out in the middle of the ceremony due to lack of oxygen."

I sighed heavily, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. Anna winced. "Don't do that," she muttered. "You'll ruin the material."

"I'm scared," I whispered.

"I know," she replied softly. "But you'll do fine, Ella. All you have to do is kneel down and let them place a crown on top of your head. You can't mess it up."

"No, I probably can."

"You'll do brilliantly," she said. "I promise."

* * *

The coronation of the King and Queen took place in the Cathedral on a beautiful February morning. Sunshine streamed in through the stained glass windows, bathing the entire room in light. Every pew was packed with people and, outside of the church, hundreds more were gathered. It was a bigger spectacle than our wedding, which I hadn't thought possible until I saw it with my own eyes.

Organ music filled the air as Edmund and I made our way down the impossibly long aisle. Every pair of eyes were on us. I stared straight ahead, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, focusing all of my attention on not tripping. As we reached the front, I turned my head slightly to glance at Edmund. At first I was surprised to see how calm he looked. He was about to be crowned king, about to have the responsibility of the entire kingdom placed on his shoulders. If I were in his position, I would have been curled up in the fetal position, hyperventilating. But then I looked closer and I saw it. The panic in his eyes. Maybe he wasn't so calm after all. His eyes met mine and I gave him an encouraging smile. He squeezed my hand tightly as the bishop stood up.

It was while Edmund was saying the coronation oath that I began to feel nauseous. I clutched my stomach and tried to keep my mind on other things. But the feeling only got worse and just as Edmund was nearing the end of his oath, I emptied the contents of my stomach right at his feet. The crowd let out a simultaneous gasp and then fell entirely silent. The bishop peered sternly at me over his spectacles. But I hardly noticed either of their reactions. It was Edmund's that made me want to throw up all over again. He shot me that nastiest glare I had ever seen him give and, for a moment, I truly believed that he would never forgive me for ruining this moment for him. But then he blinked and shook his head and had a look about him like he was coming to his senses. He leaned in close and whispered in my ear.

"Are you feeling unwell, darling?"

"Very much so," I murmured back.

"Then we should get you back to your room," he replied.

"But what about the ceremony?"

"Ella," he said, "You and I were king and queen the moment my father passed away. All of this is just tradition. It doesn't matter."

The bishop let out an offended harrumph, but Edmund ignored him.

"You love tradition," I replied.

"I love _you_ more," he told me, sincerity in his eyes.

I nodded, giving him a small smile.

He turned back to the bishop. "I'm sorry," he said, "but my wife is feeling unwell. Could we perhaps skip all of this and go straight to the crowning?"

The bishop frowned. The audience began to murmur amongst themselves.

"I don't think that's possible," the bishop replied.

Edmund smiled politely. "That wasn't really a suggestion," he said. "It was more of an order."

The bishop's eyes widened. "Oh," he said. "Of course." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Er, please kneel."

We both knelt down. The bishop picked up the first crown and placed it on my head. He cleared his throat again and started to say something, but Edmund shushed him, motioning for him to move things along. The bishop picked up Edmund's crown and, scowling, placed it on his head.

"Thank you!" Edmund said, jumping up and pulling me to my feet. We hurried back down the aisle to the thunderous applause of the audience, but I hardly noticed any of them. I was too busy trying not to get sick again.

Outside of the church, the crowd that had gathered let out a wild cheer as we emerged, but Edmund pushed past all of them, yanking open the door to the waiting carriage and helping me inside.

"That was certainly a memorable coronation," he remarked, as the carriage sped away.

"I'm sorry that I ruined things," I replied, ducking my head in shame.

"It's fine," he murmured, gazing out the window. "Like I said before, it doesn't matter."

I knew that he wasn't mad at me. I don't even think he blamed me. But I couldn't help but think that he was still disappointed that things had not gone according to tradition.

* * *

I fell asleep almost immediately after lying down in my bed, and I didn't wake up for hours. When I did, I was startled to see a shadowy figure perched on the edge of the bed. I sat up quickly, my eyes adjusting to the dark.

"Fairy Godmother?" I said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I merely came to see how you were doing, child," she replied, smiling serenely. "After all, your life is changing immensely."

"Yes," I replied. "Becoming queen is quite the—"

"No," she said, cutting me off. "I was talking about the baby."

"The baby?" I repeated dumbly. "What baby?"

"You mean you don't know?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up in the air.

"Don't know what?" I asked, growing more and more confused.

"You're pregnant, my dear," she replied with a smile. "With a baby boy."

It took a moment for her word to sink in, but once they did, I let out a loud squeal. "Are you certain?" I asked, jumping to my feet.

"Yes, of course," she said, nodding.

"I must tell Edmund," I said, already heading in the direction of the door. "Thank you so much for the news," I called over my shoulder.

Although I had been asleep for hours, it was only the middle of the afternoon and as soon as I emerged from my room, I realized that I had no idea where my husband actually was. As I ran all over the castle, searching for him, I was reminded of the last time I done something so very similar to this. After discovering that he had been with Jane, I had looked all over the castle for him before being informed by James that he had left the kingdom. It had only been a couple weeks, but so much had changed. Instead of feeling overwhelming anger and frustration, all I felt was joy. I was pregnant. I was going to be a mother. There was life growing inside of me. The future king of our kingdom. It was a wonderful feeling.

I finally found him, pacing around in the gardens by himself.

"Edmund!" I called, nearly colliding with him as I came skidding around a hedge. "Edmund, I have terrific news!"

"Whoa," he said, extending his arms to steady me. "Careful, darling. Should you really be running around? You were so terribly ill this morning."

"Edmund," I said, breathing hard as I tried to catch my breath. "That was morning sickness!"

Well, that was certainly one way to tell your husband that you're pregnant, though perhaps not the most couth.

His eyes widened. "Ella, you don't mean—"

"Yes!" I exclaimed before he could finish. "I'm pregnant, Edmund! With a baby boy! I'm going to give you an heir, darling."

His face broke into a huge grin as he picked me up and spun me around. I smiled contently as he gently set me down, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other.

"You know what?" I murmured after a few minutes of silence, resting my head against his chest.

"What?"

I tilted my face up so that I could look into his eyes. "I'm really happy," I told him.

He kissed the top of my head. "Me too, Ella," he said. "Me too."

* * *

Henry eyed me suspiciously when I nearly danced into the bookshop the next day.

"You seem chipper," he muttered sourly, riffling through a stack of books.

"You certainly don't," I replied.

He slammed one of the books shut and roughly shoved the entire pile aside. A few of the top books toppled onto the floor, but he made no move to pick them up. He simply kicked them aside as he came around from the behind. I followed him as he began to weave in out of the shelves of books, grabbing random books, flipping through them, and then quickly tossing them aside. He was behaving very strangely. Henry never allowed his shop to be anything less than impeccable. But now he was making quite the mess. I picked up as many books as I could, tucking them back into their proper places. Finally he spun around wildly and stared at me in a way that made me think he had forgotten I was there.

"What are you doing?" he barked.

"Picking up after you," I responded coolly. "I could stop if you'd like. But I hardly think you'd be pleased with the state of dishevelment you left your shop in."

He rubbed his eyes and I noticed that he looked exhausted.

"Henry, what's wrong?" I asked.

"I'm trying to find a book," he muttered.

"You keep this shop perfectly organized alphabetically and by category," I replied dubiously. "How hard could it be to find a book?"

"It doesn't matter!" he snapped. "I'll find it later."

"Don't take this out on me, Henry," I said. "I don't know what this book is or why you're so upset, but none of concerns me."

He sighed heavily. "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry, Ella. I suppose I should be congratulating you, not yelling at you."

I frowned, confused. How could he possibly know that I was pregnant?

"How does it feel to be the queen?" he asked.

"Oh," I replied. "That."

The corner of his mouth turned upward. "Yes, that," he said, sounding amused. "Damn, Ella, try to sound a little less enthusiastic, why don't you?"

"I've hardly thought about the coronation at all," I admitted.

"Trying to block it from your memory?" he asked. "I would too if I had thrown up in front of half the kingdom."

"You heard about that?"

"It was in the newspaper," he said, grabbing a copy from the counter and waving it around. "Complete with this fantastic artist's rendering." He pointed to a sketch of me bent over on the altar, puking, as Edmund and the bishop looked on in horror.

"Lovely," I said.

"I thought so too," he said. "Wish I could've seen it in person."

"If you're trying to get under my skin," I said, "it's not going to work."

He lifted an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"Because," I replied, "my vomiting was due to a wonderful thing."

"A wonderful thing," he repeated, looking at me strangely.

"I'm pregnant!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands together excitedly.

"Mmm," he murmure, frowning slightly. "Congratulations."

"Wow, Henry, I can feel your enthusiasm from here."

"I'm sorry, Ella," he said with a sigh. "I just don't think that having a child with that man is a good idea."

"That man is my husband!" I exclaimed. "And your king. And I don't see how any of this is your business anyway!"

"Oh, right, my king!" he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're right, I take back all bad opinions I've ever had about it. Wouldn't want to be beheaded."

I glowered at him. "Sometimes you're such a jerk, Henry Toulson."

"Me?" he replied, laughing bitterly. "I'm the jerk?"

"Yes," I said shortly, crossing my arms over my chest.

Ella," he snapped, "you deserve everything, don't you get that? _Everything._ And I just hate seeing you settle for nothing."

My heart sped up as I gazed into his eyes. His expression was so intense. And he was—as always— so, so beautiful.

"I'm not settling for nothing," I whispered. "Edmund loves me and I love him. We're going to have a family together. And we're going to live happily ever after."

"You keep telling yourself that," he said, "if it helps you sleep at night."

He turned away from me, yanking back the curtain that led to the storage room and disappearing from sight.

* * *

**Review!**


	19. Chapter 18

My ladies-in-waiting had taken it upon themselves to start making baby clothes for my unborn son. I walked into my sitting room one morning, a couple weeks after discovering that I was pregnant, and found them sitting together, hard at work. Except for Jane, of course. Jane sat alone, away from the other three. She was reading a book, focusing intently on the pages in front of her and, as always, avoiding eye contact with me.

I sat down next to Anna, who was knitting a tiny blue sweater and humming to herself. She had been in an excellent mood ever since that day in town when James had punched Peter. I still wasn't sure if she and James were now officially an item or not. She hadn't volunteered the information and I didn't know if I should ask. They were spending a lot of time together, but they had been before as well. My curiosity was starting to get the best of me.

Strangely enough, at that moment the door to the sitting room swung open and there James stood, with his trademark cocky grin and twinkling eyes. He sauntered across the room, squeezing himself in between Anna and me on the couch.

"There's my pretty little lady!" he exclaimed loudly, throwing his arm around Anna's shoulder and pulling her close. "Did you miss me?"

"James," she said, giggling as she gave a half-hearted attempt to push him away. "I saw you this morning."

I scooted as far away from them as I could, suddenly feeling very much like a third wheel.

"Well,_ I've_ missed you," he murmured.

Anna turned her head slightly, so that the two of them were staring directly into each other's eyes. She reached up, running her fingers through his soft, chestnut hair. He continued to gaze down at her longingly, a small moan escaping from his lips. The next thing I knew, they were kissing.

"Alright, you two," I said, as they began to slowly slip down into a horizontal position. "There are four other people in this room. Save the smooching for another time and place, please."

I guess their little display answered my question. James and Anna were definitely an item.

Jane glared at the two of them from across the room, slamming her book shut angrily as they both sat up, straightening their clothes and looking slightly embarrassed. She stood up, brushing past us all without a word, and flounced out of the room.

James let out a snort of laughter. "She's so jealous," he murmured with a smirk. "Sometimes it's so hard to be this desired." He winked at Anna and she smacked his arm.

"You're so mean to me," he said, pouting.

She stuck out her tongue at him and hopped to her feet, pulling him up with her. "Come on," she said.

"Where are we going?" he asked, following her to the door.

"I just want to show you how _nice_ I can be," she purred, gazing at him seductively from under her eyelashes.

Elizabeth stared at them, her eyes wide. Catherine coughed uncomfortably. I merely rolled my eyes. "You two are sickening!" I called after their retreating figures. "I seriously almost lost my breakfast listening to that."

"That's called morning sickness, Ella!" James hollered back, as the door closed behind them.

* * *

Henry Toulson was staring at me.

"What?" I asked, self-consciously checking my reflection in the window of the shop. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're glowing," he murmured, not looking away.

"Excuse me?" I asked, not sure if I had heard him correctly.

"You're glowing," he repeated. "Haven't you ever heard of the pregnancy glow?"

I shook my head. "I think you're making this up, Henry."

"I am not," he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "It's a real thing. Look it up."

Ever since I had arrived at the shop, nearly an hour earlier, Henry had been standing at the front counter, bent intently over a pile of paper, scrawling a letter to someone. I watched as he redirected his gaze back to the note, groaning in frustration. He crumpled up the paper and began again. I crossed the room, leaning up against the counter on the opposite side.

"Who're you writing to?" I asked, trying to catch a glimpse of his words.

"Nobody!" he snapped, snatching the paper up before I had a chance to read any of it. "It's none of your business."

Henry was so hot and cold. One minute he was smiling and laughing and talking to me, showering me with compliments, telling me that I was beautiful, that I was glowing, that I deserved everything. Sometimes his hand would graze mine and he'd keep it there for longer than was probably appropriate. But then the next minute, he would suddenly be closed off, scolding me for something small and acting like my presence was a burden. He'd scowl and shout and storm off, leaving me alone and confused.

Dealing with Henry Toulson's mood swings was enough to give a girl whiplash.

"Fine," I responded coolly. "I was merely being curious. Forgive me."

His gaze softened almost immediately, the same way it nearly always did soon after he got mad at me. Like after I had told him I was pregnant and he had stormed off, annoyed with me for forgiving Edmund so easily. He had returned from the storage room only minutes later, pleading for my forgiveness, reassuring me that I hadn't done anything wrong, and telling me again and again that I would make an excellent mother. It was Henry Toulson's way. He'd get mad. He'd scold me or he'd ignore me. Then he'd beg for my forgiveness, assuring me that he was merely taking some previously held frustration out on me, that it wasn't my fault, that it was never my fault. _Ella, you're beautiful. Ella, you're smart. Ella, you're glowing. Ella, you're going to be a great mother. Ella, you deserve everything. Ella, I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry._

It was confusing. I was sure that he cared about me. Perhaps more than he should. I saw it his eyes. I could tell by the way his gaze would linger on me for a bit too long. Or the way he sometimes seemed to go out of his way to touch me, even if it was for the briefest of moments. So I had a hard time understanding why he sometimes closed himself off from me, why he became so distant so quickly at such random times.

Sometimes I felt like he was hiding something from me. Some big secret. I had noticed it a few times, the letter today being the most recent. There had also been the day that I'd told him I was pregnant. When I had arrived at the bookshop, he had practically been tearing the place apart trying to locate some kind of book. But when I had asked which one, he had immediately become defensive and angry and refused to tell me. But I truly had no idea what he could be keeping from me. Perhaps it would always remain a mystery.

He tucked his unfinished letter away and came out from behind the counter. He looked around, noticing that the shop was empty except for the two of us.

"Want to dance with me, Ella?" he asked, biting his lower lip as he gazed down at me.

"Dance with you?" I asked. "Why? There's no music, Henry."

"Because," he said. "There's music in our heads." He paused, looking thoughtful. "And because we're young and we won't be forever. So we might as well dance now while we still have the energy. And because we used to dance together all the time when we were kids and we always had fun. And because the shop is empty and nobody will see us making fools out of ourselves. And I'm sure you'll have plenty of balls to attend as queen so you might as well get some practice in. And because—"

"Henry," I said, taking a step toward him. "Hush."

He stopped talking, looking at me expectedly.

"Those were very compelling reasons," I murmured, taking another step.

"You think?" he asked, his green eye wide.

"Yes," I replied, taking a third step.

We were almost touching now. All he needed to do was close the gap. He reached out, taking my hand in his and resting the other in the small of my back. And then we were dancing. To nothing but the music in our heads. Until he accidently stepped on the hem of my dress. And we both went crashing down. And I landed right on top of him. And we both burst out laughing. And neither of us moved. Even though we both knew that we should.

It wasn't until we heard the flash go off that we noticed the two men who had entered the shop. The two photographers. One of them was still hidden under the black sheet. The other stood beside the tripod, a gleeful expression on his face. "Perfect shot," he murmured. "This should make the front page."

* * *

**FYI: In my mind this story takes place in some sort of fairytale land equivalent of the mid to late 1800s, so cameras did exist.**

**It kind of seemed like the comments on the last chapter were only few steps away from becoming a shipping war. So this time I want an official headcount. Sound off in the comments. Team Edmund or Team Henry. Not that it really matter because I already know how this story is going to end and nothing is going to change my mind :) But I'm still curious. **

**Also tell me any of your predictions. Do you think Henry is hiding something. If so, what? What else do you think is going to happen? What do you want to happen?**


	20. Chapter 19

Henry and I both jumped to our feet. I backed as far away from his possible, as if putting as much distance between the two of us as I could would somehow negate the photograph.

"Who the hell are you?" Henry snarled, looking furious.

"We're from the newspaper," one of the men replied smugly. "And we just the scoop of the century." He redirected his gaze toward me, a sleazy smile spreading across his face. "The queen and the shopkeeper. My, my, how…intriguing. I do wonder how the king will react. "

"Get the hell out of my shop," Henry snarled. "Or I swear I'll break your goddamn camera."

"Well, well, well. Your man's got a bit of a temper, doesn't he?" the photographer said, still smirking at me. "I hope he doesn't use that on you."

"Get. Out." Henry's eyes flashed with anger as he clenched his fists at his side. For a moment he looked truly terrifying.

"Fine, fine," said the man, backing up toward the door. The silent photographer followed him, carrying the tripod in one hand and the camera in the other. I watched as they disappeared from sight, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Oh god," I murmured. "Oh god. Henry, what am I supposed to do now?"

"Ella, it's fine," he murmured, his tone soothing. "We were dancing and we fell. We didn't do anything wrong."

"Henry, there's going to be a photograph of me _lying on top of you_ on the front page of the newspaper. Nobody's going to know the context. They're all going to assume the worst. And Edmund…" I groaned. "Edmund is going to be so mad."

"Well, that'll be a bit hypocritical of him, don't you think?" Henry asked, rolling his eyes. "Besides, you can always just try telling him the truth. You're his wife. Shouldn't he trust you?"

I didn't reply. I was too busy hyperventilating.

Henry sighed heavily. "Ella," he said. "You shouldn't care so much about what other people think of you."

"Well, that's rich coming from you!" I snapped.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I know how ashamed you are of the fact that your family fell so far down the social ladder, Henry. You used to be aristocracy. Now you own a bookshop."

His eye narrowed. "You think I'm embarrassed about that?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Well, Ella," he said. "You're wrong. I'm not the least bit ashamed. I'm proud of everything I've accomplished _for myself_. I built this business up from nothing. I'm glad I'm not some kind of spoiled aristocrat who's never done a thing with his life. Besides, the whole nobility system is ridiculous anyway. You know I feel that way. We'd be better off getting rid of it all and becoming a democracy."

"You do know who you're talking to right now, don't you?" I asked.

"Oh, you're right," he replied sarcastically. "I'm so sorry, Your Magesty. Forgive me."

It was at that moment that I burst into tears. Henry immediately looked alarmed. "Whoa, Ella, I was just kidding around."

"I know," I choked out between sobs. "I'm not upset about what you said. I'm still upset about that photograph."

His gaze softened. "Shhh," he murmured. "It'll be alright. Everything will be fine." He held out his arms and I fell into his embrace, burying my face in his chest. He planted a kiss on the top of my head and I felt a tingling in my stomach. Continuing to whisper soft, reassuring promises into my ear, he led me into the back room. There was a couch back there, which Henry slept on when he stayed at the shop too late to return home for the night.

"Why don't you lie here for a while," he suggested. "Try to calm down a bit and then you can return to work."

I sat down, perching on the edge of the seat, feeling a bit uncomfortable. I wasn't a child. I didn't need nap time.

"Lie down, Angel," Henry murmured.

I glanced up at him, surprised. _Angel._ I hadn't heard him call me that in years and years. It was a nickname he had given me when we were children. I'd never asked him how he had come up with it or why he had decided to start calling me it. It had just happened one day out of the blue. It wasn't a nickname he had used often. In fact, it had been quite rare. But when he did call me Angel, it was when his voice was at its softest and kindest. It was when his green eyes seemed to be able to see right through me. It was a nickname he reserved for the most private of moments, when the two of us were alone in our fort and telling each other our deepest of secrets. When he called me Angel, I always knew that I'd love him forever. It didn't matter that were so, so young. Too young to even fully understand what love was. I knew he was one of the most important people in my life. I knew he'd _always_ be one of the most important people in my life.

"Why do you call me that?" I asked, stretching out across the couch.

"That's a story for another time," he replied, covering me with a blanket.

He turned to leave, but I grabbed his hand. "Wait."

He turned back around. "Yes?"

"Why are you so mean to me sometimes?" I asked softly. "Sometimes—like now—you're so lovely. But other times…" I trailed off, looking at him expectedly.

"Ella," whispered. "There's so much I wish I could tell you, so much I wish I could explain. But it's not the right time."

"When will it be the right time?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

He shrugged helplessly. "I've yet to figure that out."

I nodded, disappointed by his vague responses. I knew he had been hiding something, but now—more than ever—I wanted to know what it was.

"But, Ella," he said, "you should know that how I feel about you has never changed. Not once. Not ever. I know my behavior has been awful, but it has nothing to do with my feelings for you. I promise."

The tingling in my stomach was back, stronger than ever.

"Oh, Henry," I murmured, closing my eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

* * *

I paused outside the door of the dining room the next morning. I knew Edmund was already in there. I knew he would have already picked up the newspaper. If those photographers had published that picture like they said they would, Edmund would have already seen it. I took a deep breath and stepped inside the room.

Edmund was sitting in his usual seat the head of the table. His plate was empty. It was obvious he hadn't touched any of the delectable food that was piled on platters in the center of the long table. The newspaper was sitting right in front of him. Even from where I stood, I could see that a large photograph took up most of the top half of the first page, accompanied by a headline that I could not read.

He lifted his head slowly as I approached the table. Instead of sitting down at one of the chairs near his, I slipped into the one all the way at the other end of the table. I saw a couple of the servants exchange a look. They could obviously sense an argument brewing.

"Well, well, well," Edmund said, his dark eyes flashing with anger. "Look who it is— my beautiful _wife_." He spat out the last word like it was dirty. I cringed, slumping down in my seat.

"Goddamn it, Ella!" he snarled, slamming his fist down on the table, shaking the dishes and startling the servants. "Don't slouch at the table!"

I quickly sat up.

"For once in your life could you manage to behave like royalty?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "I get so fed up with having to correct your behavior all the time!"

"Sorry," I muttered, my gaze dropping to the floor.

"Look at me when I'm addressing you!" he hissed.

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze. I'd never heard him so angry before. For the first time, I was actually scared of him. What if he struck me? What would I do?

He picked up the newspaper, waving it around. "Care to explain this, Ella?"

"Edmund," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "That's all a misunderstanding. We fell down and I landed on top of him. That's all. There's nothing going on between us. I swear."

"You fell down and you landed on top of him," he repeated slowly. "How…believable."

"It's the truth!" I snapped.

He stood up, still clutching the newspaper in one hand. I watched as he calmly walked around the table and came to a stop in front of me. I lifted my head, staring at him defiantly. If he even so much as laid a hand on me, so help me god I was going to—Well I wasn't sure what I was going to do. But I was certainly not going to let him get away with it.

I needn't have worried though. He didn't even attempt to touch me. He merely held out the newspaper, giving me a closer look at the photograph. For the first time, I could understand why he doubted that the circumstances around the photograph had been innocent. One of Henry's hands was resting on my bum. I didn't even remember him putting it there. Had he done it on purpose? I was gazing down at Henry with an expression that bordered on adoration and he was looking back at up at me in the same way. Even through the blurry black and white of the picture, we looked like two people who were very much enamored with each other.

"It's lucky the photograph was taken when it was," Edmund remarked, his words interrupting my thoughts. "I have a feeling that had they showed up a bit later, there wouldn't be quite as much clothing involved."

I sighed heavily. Would it even be worth it to try to deny once again that anything had happened? He seemed to have made his mind up. And his mind was clearly telling him that I was having an affair with Henry Toulson.

"When you told me that you had gotten a job," he continued, "I thought that was particularly strange. You were a princess, after all. Why would a princess want to work in a bookshop? But now it all makes sense. This man was a childhood friend of yours, correct? So perhaps it was not a job you wanted. Just a way to see him without raising suspicions. Just a way to carry on your torrid little affair without getting caught. But that backfired, didn't it? It most certainly backfired."

"You're such a hypocrite, Edmund!" I exclaimed. "This is actually unbelievable. Have you forgotten about that maid on our honeymoon? Or Princess Rosa on my birthday? Or Jane? How dare you attack me as if you're just some innocent bystander. You have lot of nerve!"

"You were the one who confronted me about my cheating, acting as if I had wronged your horribly," he replied. "I agreed to make an effort to change my ways. I haven't touched another woman since. But you—you had the nerve to confront me while having an affair behind my back the entire time! At least I only slipped up a few times; you've been continuously carrying on with this man from the beginning!"

"No, I have not!" I exploded. "Would you shut up and listen to me? There is nothing going on between Henry and I. Nothing."

"Then quit," he replied simply.

"Excuse me?"

"Quit your job," he said. "And cut him out of your life. If there's nothing going on between the two of you, then that shouldn't be a problem."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No, I can't do that."

I needed Henry. Especially after all that had just happened. He was the only one I wanted to talk to, the only one whose shoulder I wanted to cry on. I had nobody else. Anna was always off somewhere with James. Sarah was married and living far away. I wasn't close enough to Elizabeth or Catherine. And Jane…well, let's just say that there wasn't a chance in hell that I was going to talk about anything with her.

Edmund's lip curled. "You can't?"

I shook my head. "No, I can't. And you better not try to force me either. You can't keep me locked up like I'm your prisoner."

"I'm not going to lock you up," he replied. "You can do whatever the hell you want. You're not my slave."

I sighed heavily. "I still think you're a hypocrite," I muttered.

"Yeah, well, here's the thing, Ella," he said. "Princes and kings have had affairs since the beginning of time. It's practically expected. Princesses and queens, on the other hand, are supposed to remain faithful. It's just how it is."

"You sexist pig!" I snarled.

He shrugged, tossing the newspaper down in front of me. "In case you'd like to read the article," he said.

I stared down at it, reading the headline for the first time.

**Is the Royal Baby Royal After All?**

My stomach churned. Oh my god, this was worse than I expected. They were implying that my unborn baby—the future heir of the kingdom—was actually Henry's.

I glanced back up at Edmund. "You don't believe this headline, do you?" I muttered hoarsely.

He shrugged. "Seems like there's probably a fifty-fifty chance either way."

"So what happens if this baby is born and you're convinced it's not yours?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "Will you ignore him, treat him badly, make him feel unloved?"

"Oh no," he said, shaking his head. "That baby's going to be my heir no matter what and I'll treat him as my son even if he's a goddamn clone of your shopkeeper. I'm not going to punish an innocent child for the sins of his mother."

Though I was relieved to hear him say this (not that there was any chance the baby would look like Henry), his last statement stung. "Go to hell!" I hissed.

He lifted his hand and I flinched. Perhaps I'd finally gone too far. Perhaps he was finally going to hit me. But once again, I was only being paranoid. He simply brushed a lock of hair out of his face and surveyed me with a look of distaste.

"Enjoy your breakfast," he said, before turning and storming out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him and then I was alone. Except for the servants, of course. They were all openly staring at me, no doubt itching to return to the servants' quarters and spread this new piece of juicy gossip.

I stood up quietly, ignoring all the eyes that were focused on me, and exited the room. I left the newspaper where it was, not wanting to look at it a second longer than I had to.

Once upstairs, I threw myself down on my bed.

And I cried myself to sleep.

* * *

**Uh-oh.**


End file.
